Chapter 1 Replay My Love Scenes Again

“Ginny, are you sure you don’t mind having… him… stay at the Burrow?” asked Ron worriedly.

Ginny smiled and shook her head, “No, I’m okay. Really. I told mum to invite him over__”

“You did??” Ron yelled out shockingly.

Ginny rolled her eyes, “I’m fine with him. I’m his friend too. He needs people, especially now, given what happened to his godfather.”

“But… the events last year… you’re not… angry with him?” Hermione frowned. “It’s different when we were all in school… you know… seeing him in the halls but blended with the crowds__”


“What is this him, him, him? Come on guys! He’s not Voldemort!” Ginny interrupted and retrieved a comb from her dresser.

Ron immediately shuddered and glared at her.

“The guy has a name! It’s okay to say his name. Harry! Harry! Harry!” Ginny laughed hollowly, combing her red hair, trying to maintain her smile. “See! I said it! And I am not crying!

“Just don’t try to pair us up again! Promise me to act natural when he’s here, okay?”

Ron and Hermione nodded slightly and breathed a sigh of relief, but were still looking at her apprehensively.

“No. I’m not angry with him. Not anymore… I’ve moved on…” she grinned and assured them emptily. But something tingly could be felt from the inner corner of her eyes. Perhaps she realized that while she was trying to convince them, she was also trying to convince herself of this.

“I think of it… as a bad dream. And now I have woken up. It’s a brand new day and I’m a new person, a much stronger person.

“Out! Out! Out! I need to get changed!” Ginny hastily pushed them out of her room as the tingling sensation was getting stronger.

Ron and Hermione slowly walked out of her room, whispering nervously to each other, trying unsuccessfully to believe what she said.

“But sis__” Ron turned around abruptly, only to see Ginny’s door slammed in his face.

Holding back her twisting emotions, Ginny leaned her entire weight against the door to make sure they couldn’t come in and catch her reddened eyes. She was adamant that she wasn’t going to shed more tears for Harry, or more importantly, to not let other people see her shed tears for him. After waiting for a few minutes to make sure they were gone, she quietly trudged to her dresser, her spirits crumbling because she realized she had to face something that was very difficult emotionally. She had failed so many times before but today she was determined to accomplish her goal, to finally let go of the painful mementos of her past with Harry, and move on.

After all, she was no longer the fragile little girl who would blush or cry over the silliest of things. She no longer busied herself with diaries and had taken an active interest in Quidditch. Even her mum was now more liberal towards her, noticing her maturity beyond her years. But some things just could not be overcome with outer strength, when the strength was limited to the exterior, fueled tenuously with a broken heart. Deep inside, she was still the fragile little girl, except now the little girl possessed a heart that was always filled with tears.

She stoically opened her drawer and pulled out a picture of her together with him taken last year at the Leaky Cauldron. Underneath it was last year’s diary, and when she flipped it open she noticed that all the pages were about him. She quickly tossed the diary and the photo into the garbage.

As Ginny glanced up at the dresser, she could see her hollow reflection staring palely back at her. It wasn’t like this last year, and she couldn’t help but remember the bright reflection of the two of them, when he sat in front of her while she was trimming his hair, both giggling wildly. Those were the happy times.

”I’m ticklish, especially there and there…” she could still hear him joke to her that day, even though she wasn’t touching him there and there.

From the corner of the mirror, she spotted the reflection of the dream catcher across her room that he gave her two years ago during Christmas. She would never forget that memorable Christmas they had shared together, because that was the night that started everything, when fate would have them share a very intimate dream together. She could still remember the pure sensations of his naked body melting against hers, his heart beating faintly against her flushed cheeks, and his arm gently caressing her back. It was paradise.

The dream catcher was hanging by the closet door. This door was important; it was always shut because behind it hid something that was very precious to her, something that she purposely forgot to return to him.

”I want you to have the best dreams in the world. Don’t be like me. Always having nightmares all the time…” he said to her that night under the Christmas tree.

Once she removed the dream catcher from the door and threw it into the garbage, she bit her lip, carefully opened the closet door and saw what was awaiting her behind it. Once again, a terrible but familiar feeling of longing emerged inside her gut as she retrieved his jacket and clutched it in her arms. Cuddling it like this would always make her feel like she was embracing him once again, feeling safe again, just like the old days.

It felt so wonderful she couldn’t help but slowly put it on. Wearing it would always bring back all those feelings they once shared. She chuckled because she once admitted that his aroma was her favorite. Remembering their loving past like an old romance movie sequence, she was letting the memories of them nurture her mind again, and she was immersed in them: his gentleman touch, devilish lips, poignant voice, innocent face, boyish smile, and bright green eyes... Without knowing it, Ginny found herself mesmerized, smiling mistily again and she could almost hear herself giggle.

However, she had learned the hard lesson that happiness was finite, just like all movies must come to an end, some with happy endings, and some with sad endings. Unfortunately for her, theirs was one that left her with the worst possible outcome. In the end, all she had that was his was a lifeless jacket void of his warmth and aroma, and it was the only item available to fill the emptiness that he left behind in her heart. But she knew what had to be done. She took the jacket off and threw it into the garbage.

The garbage can was once again filled with mementos, her endearing memories of them that she desperately wanted to forget. In fact, it was overflowing the bin toppled over, spilling the items all over the floor. Staring at the messy pile of memories, the remains and heaps of what were the remnants of their relationship, her eyes began to tear up heavily but she refused to let her tears flow. Overcome by her longing emotions and hating herself, she dejectedly retrieved the items once again, and one by one, shakily placed them all back to their original locations, just like other countless times before. She had once again failed to let him go.

Ginny had explained to her mum that she broke up with Harry because they were incompatible but she emphasized that he did absolutely nothing to hurt her. She kept the painful truth to herself despite Mrs. Weasley constantly badgering her for the details, especially at the beginning, because she remembered vividly how her mum threatened him about not hurting her before she gave her blessing. She didn’t want her mum to hate him because he really did hurt her last year.

Ginny didn’t want her mum to hate him because at this point, he needed all the love he could get given what happened to his godfather. Without his godfather, he no longer had any family. He was deserted. He was an orphan again. That was why she made Ron and Hermione promise to keep the details of their past a secret from her mother. She also made her mum promise that she would not ask Harry about their breakup, given all the hardships he was enduring right now.

Mrs. Weasley was always very fond of Harry and she was extremely excited when she found out about their relationship last year. But she wasn’t stupid. After all, all breakups had their unique painful reasons behind them for both parties. Of course her affection towards Harry was slightly weakened when she found out about their situation, especially when it involved her own baby daughter. There was no doubt her angel suffered some sort of pain as a result. As a mother, she could see how much Ginny had seemingly aged over the past year, her face scarred perhaps by tears, and the apparent loss of innocence as a result. What used to be Ginny’s energetic sounds of giggles and girlish excitement were so rare these days; they were replaced by a veil of poignant calmness and silent strength vaguely masking some kind of deep pain.

Mrs. Weasley never discovered the true reasons behind the split and she had since given up, but she couldn’t help but wonder whether Harry had broken his promise to her and had done something terrible to her angel that had led to their breakup. Nevertheless, like Ginny, Mrs. Weasley was a person of compassion and selflessness and in her mind, Harry would always be her adopted son no matter what he did. Just like her daughter, her love for him was unconditional.

Ginny knew today was the day Harry was arriving to stay at the Burrow. Despite putting up a strong front, deep inside she wasn’t ready to see him again, at least not today. She remembered that after he lost his memory of them, it was so heartbreaking to see him everyday in the castle halls, for him to greet her so casually despite having once shared numerous intimate and emotional moments together as a loving couple.

At the beginning, it was extremely painful to catch his eyes, because they no longer sparkle at her like they used to. He treated her like his little sister again. His hellos to her were no longer endearing and heartfelt. Eventually, as they reached the end of the school term, she was finally at peace with seeing him in school. Or perhaps she was just too numb to feel anything towards the end.

She couldn’t deny to not hear the murmurs from fellow students whispering behind them when they happened to be together on rare occasions. People just had no tact and loved to talk about the misery of others, especially things like these, even if they knew clearly that the victims were within earshot of these hurtful words. The gossip about their apparent breakup and her crush on him only gradually died down toward the end of the school year. Nevertheless, she was certain Harry could hear the murmurs. She was also certain he was deeply aware of how she felt about him, the feelings she harbored for him all these years even without the gossip. But as a true and honorable gentleman, he would never make an issue of her affections and awkwardness toward him, thus saving her from utter embarrassment, for which she was extremely grateful.

However, she couldn’t help but wonder sometimes what Harry was really thinking when he would overhear people talking about them and their alleged breakup, when in his mind, they were never together in the first place. Sadly, it was also entirely possible that he never really put any thought into it at all, because Ginny simply never existed in Harry’s heart, and she might never will.

Today, she decided to accompany her father to work in London to avoid seeing Harry. Avoiding today was critical because she was certain that the energy in the house would be cranked to the maximum, as a result of all the welcoming and exciting routines her mum had planned for his arrival: the big meals, the warm hugs, and all the motherly talks. Instead, she could spend the day quietly in the city, away from all the excitement because of him. She would wait for her father to finish work, and they would go home late in the evening, when all the fanfare for Harry should die down by then. But she was worried whether she could maintain her composure for the entire time that he would be at the Burrow. The Burrow was not spacious like Hogwarts, where she could avoid him easily. The challenge would be to avoid his magnetic green eyes on a daily basis, the unimaginable pain of them looking emptily at her like she was his little sister.

After reassuring her father over and over again that she would be okay by herself in the city, Ginny found herself walking mindlessly in the crowded streets, struggling with all kinds of thoughts when it started to rain. She watched the downpour swept the gray sidewalks, cleansing them of yesterday’s footsteps. If only the rain could also wash away her past, so she would finally be able to forget.

"Forget me..." he once said to her.

Her father had told her about the London rain and he gave her a Muggle’s umbrella. It was so early the streetlights still had not been turned off. The lights were blurred behind a veil of heavy fog. Everyone seemed so preoccupied with their lives to notice her downcast eyes. Cars and people were whizzing by her and she unknowingly stepped into the crossroads when suddenly…

“HONK! HOOONNNKKK…! BBEEEEEEEEEPP!!”

Someone’s arm abrupted grabbed her shoulder and immediately pulled her away from the road violently. In the process, she spun into the stranger and dropped her umbrella. They both stumbled when they collided.

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING! STUPID GIRL! CAN’T YOU SEE THE BLOODY RED LIGHT??” the angry driver spat as he sped by a puddle, sending water flying towards them.

Seeing this, the stranger immediately held her tighter in his embrace and spun around, trying to shield her from the water.

“TAKE A HIKE! YOU JERK!” the stranger yelled back furiously at the driver, still holding Ginny tightly in his embrace.

“Some folks really need to relax. Gosh… Yuck…I got water in my mouth…” the stranger complained angrily as he wiped his face and steadied her carefully.

“Are you okay, Miss…WEASLEY? WEASLEY??” the stranger immediately recognized her red hair and screamed excitedly. “Wow! Aren’t you Fred and George’s little sister?”

Blinking very quickly, she looked up and immediately recognized him. She had heard a lot about him from Fred and George. He was just as burly as he used to be when she had last seen him in his Quidditch matches during her second year at Hogwarts. Now that she had grown a couple of inches, he wasn’t as intimidating as before. He had suitcases around him and his broom, sporting a bright smile and an earring to match.

“Wood? Oliver? Oliver Wood?”

Chapter 2 A Familiar Face With An Identical Past

“Man, you’re certainly not little anymore!” he examined her up and down impressively. “If it wasn’t for your red fur, I wouldn’t recognize you’re a Weasley!

“You’re not a cat by the way…you don’t have multiple lives to spare!” he finally released his grip, after noticing that his hands were still clutching her arms.

“Thanks, Oliver,” Ginny breathed tiredly, brushing the water off her clothes and picking up her umbrella, still visibly shaken by what just happened.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he scratched his head and asked worriedly, noticing she wasn’t very responsive.

He gazed at her intently, still scratching his head continuously, as if he was trying to retrieve something elusive inside his brain.

“Listen, I was on my way to grab a bite… Haven’t eaten anything since last night,” he blurted out nervously. “Er… If you’re not busy, why don’t you… hmm… come with me and we’ll… catch up and… you can tell me everything about the latest news at Hogwarts and those crazy brothers of yours… I heard they had a very unique grand style of a departure…”

There was a long sheepish pause as Ginny stared at him, contemplating about his awkward and insincere invitation and wondering why he was babbling in the middle of the street, while his eyes were darting in all directions.

“You have no idea what my name is?” she smiled.

He quickly shrugged his shoulders and mumbled softly, his words getting fainter and fainter, “Of course I know… It’s just… at the tip of my tongue right now…”

“It’s Gin__”

“GINNY!” he blasted smartly. “THAT’S IT!

“It’s just that you never really come up in our topic of conversation with__”

“All right! That’s enough!” she rolled her eyes indignantly.

“Listen, Ginny, seriously, if you have time, come with me. I hate eating alone.”

Even though Ginny was being very rude, deep down she really appreciated Oliver’s offer. She was very glad she bumped into a familiar and friendly face, finally running into someone who was unaware of her complicated past. Hanging around Ron and Hermione were nice but they always reminded her of last year’s events; they were still walking on eggshells around her, studying her as if she was going to shatter anytime now. But all she wanted was to be treated normally, just like Oliver was doing with her now.

She wasn’t hungry; after all, her mother was Mrs. Weasley. But since she had nothing to do anyway, she quickly accepted his invitation and made her way to the suitcases.

“Ginny, let me carry those. Take my broomstick if you want.”

“No way! It’s the middle of London! I don’t want people staring at me holding a broomstick in broad daylight!” she fumed, sensing that was the reason why he offered.

She grabbed one of his suitcases, “There, not so heavy. So where’s breakfast?”

“Erm… Ginny…” he poked her shoulder, pointing at the umbrella she was holding. “I think you can close it now.”

“What?” she glanced around annoyingly and noticed that it had stopped raining. The sun was breaking out from the clouds and the fog had lifted, revealing an arch of vivid colors. The streetlights were finally turned off and the crowds had dissipated. What had been a miserable day appeared to have restarted itself along with her, with this one much more uplifting.

“There’s a coffee shop across the street,” Oliver pointed and sneered sarcastically. “But the proper way to cross the street, Miss Ginny Weasley, is to wait for the green light. Otherwise you’ll definitely be hit by a car.”

“You’ll find yourself definitely getting hit with THIS…” she brandished the umbrella at his face, “…ACROSS YOUR HEAD!”

Ginny couldn’t help but giggle before realizing it had been a long time since she acted so silly or felt so carefree. She couldn’t believe she had just bossed around a boy much older and bigger than her.

It had just occurred to her that she had never really spoken to him before this. She recalled Fred and George constantly comparing Oliver to a madman, how he was very competitive, obsessed with winning, and pushing them inhumanely beyond the limit in the practice routines. But she couldn’t match this unforgiving reputation with the person standing in front of her right now: a rather charming boy, cheerful, energetic, behind a handsome but physically imposing exterior.

She couldn’t blame him for not knowing her name. After all, she was so shy and withdrawn back when he was at Hogwarts. For her, this was all very strange and intriguing, running into a fellow schoolmate five years her senior amongst the crowds of people in a big city, the two of them having absolutely nothing in common except for having attended the same school, and yet here they were interacting with each other as if they were old-time friends. Somehow, she found herself relating to him despite their differences, and for some bizarre reason, she could sense the same from him too.

It was early and Angeline’s Café was filled with customers. The seats at the front were filled with patrons enjoying the gorgeous view through the misty window walls. Luckily, they were able to find seats in the back near the backdoor.

“So, what brings you to the city? Walking alone in the rain?”

“So, what brings you to the city? Walking alone in the rain…” she repeated obnoxiously, pretending to tease him. In fact, she just didn’t want to answer his question.

Oliver flicked a piece of scrambled egg at her, barely missing her hair. Fuming with anger, she grabbed his fork and threatened to stab his wrist when suddenly, she was distracted by something behind him.

“Oliver, your six o’clock,” she whispered nastily, covering her mouth.

“Uh?”

“Someone’s checking you out… behind you… standing by the back exit. Look!” she mumbled excitedly, her eyes darting to that direction.

Oliver turned and spotted two girls leering at him. He flashed them a shy faint smile and they giggled some more before exiting the coffee shop.

“I think they were laughing at these,” he pointed at the large water spots on the back of his shirt, “because some red furball didn’t know how to cross__”

“Oliver, have a girlfriend?” she teased boldly, silencing him.

His face suddenly stiffened when he heard her question.

“You don’t have a girlfriend?” she asked mockingly, studying him up and down and noticed he had a ring hung around his neck.

She pressed harder, smelling blood, “I don’t believe you! Is it because you don’t want to tell me? Come on. You can tell me…

“Is that an engagement ring you have there?” she reached for it but he immediately tucked it underneath his shirt.

“You’re not that bad looking if you care for my opinion,” she examined him again, leaning closer.

He blushed and glanced at her quickly, averting her stinging gaze, then quickly pulled his head noticeably down and cleared his throat annoyingly.

“Actually, you’re not bad at all…” she continued nastily, breathing closer to him, realizing she had discovered his weak spot. She must seize this opportunity to avenge all his jokes he launched at her earlier.

“Why would no girl like one Oliver Wood?” she asked philosophically.

“Perhaps there is someone out there, a secret admirer, a beautiful girl head over heels over one dashing Oliver Wood, and he is just too dense to know it!” she winked and whistled sarcastically.

He choked and began to cough continuously. Ginny glowed triumphantly at the sight of her success.

“Okay… okay… I’ll shut up,” she sat down and chuckled, seeing he wasn’t fighting back but looking rather helpless. She couldn’t remember the last time she acted so immaturely. But the amusement was short-lived. She refrained her giggles after noticing his face and expressions were somehow oddly familiar to her.

“Oliver… you… look cool… with the earring,” she peered at him and mumbled carefully, noticing his shoulders were drooping tiredly and his eyes were staring quietly at the table.

Ginny’s heart tumbled to the floor, because unfortunately, she finally recognized his troubled expressions and downcast eyes and understood why they were all too familiar to her. He looked just like her. He was her. Looking at him was like staring at her own reflection. She was stunned, and ruthlessly, memories of her own troubles came rushing back.

With their table eerily soundless, she could hear the music that had been drumming in the air the entire time, the lyrics of a screeching woman’s voice piercing at her ears:

”Lead me by your side… Hold me one last time… Before we say goodbye…”

“Another wretched. Fluffy. Ballad… of a love song,” she growled revoltingly, gripping the tablecloth tightly. “How many more of these nauseating songs do we need to hear?”

She glared darkly at a couple that were hugging each other by the front door, “I wonder how long they’re gonna last, before they say their goodbyes…”

She wanted to run. She wanted to escape. She found herself unable to breathe, her heartbeat skipping uncontrollably, helplessly longing to find a place with no love songs, no couples, no pictures, and no movies, so she wouldn’t be constantly reminded of this.

Who had planned for this to always happen, she groaned to herself angrily, wondering how many more people besides her and Oliver had been burnt. Who could be so cruel, purposely arranging two people to cross paths, meet, fall in love, only to have them part ways at the end.

“Ginny… Ginny… What’s wrong?”

“Eh?” she murmured distractingly, pulling herself out of her thoughts. She proceeded to stir her coffee rapidly until it was swirling continuously, just like the state of her mind right now.

“You can tell me. If you want, you can talk to me like I’m one of your brothers___”

“Why do all the guys around me want to be my brother?” she stabbed the spoon into the cup as droplets of coffee splashed out from it. “I have enough brothers already to last me ten lifetimes!”

“Okay, calm down. But if you promise to stop asking me about my love life, I’ll stop asking you about__”

“Who said anything about a love life? You’re so corny!” she snapped fiercely.

“All right… all right… no one said.”

She took a deep breath and composed herself, “I accompanied my father to work today. I thought I would spend the day here in London…”

“By yourself?”

“I guess not anymore. What about you? I thought you were playing for Puddlemere United?”

“I was, but… I injured… my back,” he replied evasively. “So I have to take it easy for the next little while before I play again. Yeah… that’s right… Hmm… I’m impressed… you know the teams?”

“I follow it here and there. And I am Seeker back in school__”

“YOU??” he stared at her in disbelief, but he immediately changed his tone because he realized he had just insulted her again, judging by her indignant glare.

“It’s just… that not many… people can play the role… of Seeker… you see…What about Harry Potter?”

“Oh... him… It’s... a long story. You’ll know pretty soon…

“So why are you in London?” she quickly asked, wanting to change the subject away from Harry.

“Oh, I got an owl from Madam Hooch, saying something about Dumbledore expanding the broom training program at Hogwarts. Apparently, he wants all students to be super fliers, to be strong with their brooms, not just Quidditch players.

“She needs more people… to help teach students not only how to fly…but to show them some Quidditch flying techniques as well... to defend themselves in tight situations they may have to face someday. I guess with you know who and his Deatheaters around, a few quick turns in the air can mean life and death.

I think I might enjoy officiating Quidditch matches and stuff like that too. I thought… this is all light physical work, I… offered to help and Dumbledore accepted.

“I figure I will spend some time in the city before the school term starts. I was just looking for a flat to stay for the next__”

“I have a great idea!” Ginny yelled out excitedly. “Why don’t you stay with us? Mum wouldn’t mind and Fred and George will love to see you again to catch up.”

To her, it was a perfect idea. As she was beginning to regret her suggestion to invite Harry over, having a houseguest like Oliver would provide all the distraction she needed. She also sympathized with him, and he unknowingly managed to make her feel better about herself today, by making her realize that even a tough strapping person like him was unable to withstand the pain she was suffering from. She was also grateful to him for treating her normally, and for reminding her that she wasn’t the only one in this world after all.

Chapter 3 First Night Entanglements

“Mum, look who I bumped into today!” Ginny screamed excitedly.

“Sorry for arriving so late, Molly. Overtime again,” sighed Mr. Weasley.

“I recognize you. You’re Oliver! You used to play Quidditch with Fred and George!” Mrs. Weasley hurried over to hug him. The entire house shook from the echo of her powerful voice as Ron and Hermione rushed downstairs. Harry slowly followed but paused distantly by the staircase.

“What the heck is that?” she complained disapprovingly, examining his ear.

“It’s called an earring, mum!” Fred suddenly appeared next to her and George waltzed closer to help pull Oliver away from her grips. It appeared the twins had just returned from their joke shop at Diagon Alley.

“I KNOW WHAT IT IS!” she seized Oliver’s head with both her hands, studying his face closely. “What in the world possessed you to do that to yourself? What a shame! To damage such a handsome face!”

“Mum, please… Oliver is a guest…” Ginny pleaded as she joined the tussle to help free him. She squeezed between the two of them and finally pried them apart.

“I”ll personally kill any one of you boys if I see one of these things in your ears or any part of your bodies!

“AND THAT INCLUDES YOU TOO, HARRY!” she pointed at him severely.

Harry forced a slight smile to appear as his eyes fell on Ginny, whose bouncing long red hair seized every angle of his view. She was now tugging playfully at Oliver’s arm. Mrs. Weasley was right, Harry thought to himself. Oliver was very handsome. Even Hermione appeared slightly smitten, but as expected, Ron hadn’t noticed. The whole episode was entirely understandable: his athletic build, commanding presence, hair that stayed in place, no glasses… Harry was beginning to feel inferior by the moment. He noticed he was nearing his height now compared to the last time they met, but begrudgingly he had to admit he would never be built like him.

“So… How did you manage to bump into each other… in such a big city… I mean… the chance of that happening?” Harry interrogated Oliver inquisitively.

Ginny shot Oliver a menacing glare. She had made him promise he wouldn’t tell them about her clumsiness this morning.

“Eh, ce matin chez Café Angeline’s,” she answered for him.

“Never heard of such a place,” Harry blurted out.

“Oliver’s going to help train Hogwarts’ students to fly this year,” she ignored Harry and continued. “I invited him to stay with us before school starts. Is that okay, mum?”

“Of course it’s okay! We have plenty of room!” bellowed Mrs. Weasley.

“Oliver, you should take Percy’s room and I’ll stay with Gin,” said Hermione.

She agreed enthusiastically, “I’ll go tidy up now.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me. It’s nice to see all of you again,” Oliver smiled at them as the twins, Hermione, and Ron gathered around him.

“Hi Ginny,” Harry muttered as she tried to squeeze past him to get upstairs to her room to help Hermione settle in. For some reason, the stairs were very narrow tonight.

“I hope you had a good summer,” Ginny murmured flatly. “Er… you’re in my way, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he pushed himself awkwardly to the side as she sped upstairs. She could swear his hand somehow accidentally graced her waist in the emotional entanglement but she didn’t want to look back to check.

The excitement surrounding Oliver was attractive and lively but Harry was in no mood to join in; he just wanted some peace and quiet. He didn’t want to spoil their fun anyway. After all, the entire summer he was nothing but a dreary fog of shattered spirits. The pain from the loss of Sirius was still grinding him everyday, even though he had been trying desperately to suppress all the anguish. He found himself unable to move forward. Sirius was the only parent figure he got to meet, but before he was able to spend time getting to know him better, he was gone.

Ironically, the pain was manageable when he was staying at his Uncle’s. But when he arrived here, seeing all these familiar faces has put all the anguish memories squarely into the forefront again. He was beginning to regret accepting Mrs. Weasley’s invitation to come here. He would rather be alone, just like he was at his Uncle’s. He figured he ought to better get used to feeling this way, because he realized his upcoming path was only going to get worse.

“I’m going to bed. It’s nice to see you Oliver. Goodnight all,” Harry called to them. Not caring whether he had been heard, he slowly marched upstairs, looking forward to another long sleepless night when he stopped at Ginny’s doorstep. Without thinking, he made his way in.

“HARRY!” she bellowed stingily, startled by his sudden appearance and quickly banging the closet door shut. “You should knock first!”

“I did… but maybe… you couldn’t hear it… with all the noise downstairs,” he lied.

“Sorry Ginny! I thought… you… you might need some help… moving things or something. The door was open… and I…”

“You should know by now there are spells that do manual labor! I don’t need physical brute strength to move stuff!” she snapped crossly.

“I’m sorry. I guess… I better not… get in your way,” he inched out depressingly.

“HARRY, wait…” she called out apologetically, her arm outstretched. Her insides were clawing at the sight of him, standing so close to her alone in the crammed space. He was the last person she wanted to see, but now that he was by her side, she found herself unable to see him go. She knew it was a mistake; it would open up her old wounds, but she really wanted him to stay. She certainly missed him.

“You’re not in my way. Wanna… sit?” she pulled out her dresser chair and he quickly sat down obediently.

“GINNY!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked from downstairs.

“Why aren’t you with the others?” she ignored her mum’s calls and muttered weakly.

“What?” asked Harry. He couldn’t hear her because Mrs. Weasley had just let out a burst of laughter. There was also a sound of shattering glass, but he didn’t want to find out what that was. The suffocating drumming of happiness from downstairs was becoming unbearable for him.

“Can I close the door?” Harry got up and closed it before Ginny could object. He quickly sat back down on the dresser chair. For Ginny, the room abruptly became even more tiny now.

“You’re not downstairs with the others?” she repeated hesitantly, pacing around nervously.

“I was… feeling sleepy,” he lied, “So I was heading for bed… and one second… I was passing by your room… and the next second I’m sitting here talking to you."

She wasn’t paying much attention to his ramblings. In her mind, she was busy commanding herself desperately to block her mind of all thoughts, after having just caught his reflection from her dresser mirror. It wasn’t as awkward as she had imagined, even though the room was now feeling extremely tight and warm with the door closed. Deep down, she was satisfied she was able to successfully avert his bright green eyes, which according to Ginny’s imagination, were glued curiously to her every step the entire time.

“Harry, it’s Hedwig!” she pointed distractingly when she noticed his snowy oil flying towards her window.

Harry quickly dashed to the window and brought her inside. He took the letter and opened it as Ginny sat her in her lap on her bed and smoothed her feathers.

“It’s from Dumbledore,” said Harry apprehensively. Seeing Dumbledore’s name reminded him of their last conversation and it wasn’t the most pleasant one. He proceeded to read the letter out-loud.

Dear Mr. Potter:

I am delighted to announce this year our school has implemented, as an experiment, a mentoring program for our first year students.

The goal of this program is to provide our first year students with an opportunity to gain positive influence and guidance from their older schoolmates currently in their final two years of studies such as you. By sharing your valuable experiences with them, you will hopefully enlighten their young journeys during their stay at Hogwarts.

As such, based on the recommendation from the Head of your House, you have been selected to participate in this enriching and rewarding program as mentor for one student from your House.

The assignments will be done at the opening feast after the sorting ceremony, where you will be matched with your fellow first year “mentee.”

In exchange for your valued service, you will be granted credits against one elective subject of your choosing. Further details will be provided at the feast.

Please consider this as a reflection of honor and exemplary achievement that you have been selected.

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts

Cc: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House

“Too bad Potions is not an elected subject,” Harry sighed as he unknowingly crashed next to Ginny on her bed. It appeared entirely innocent, but her heart immediately skipped a beat nonetheless. Clearly uncomfortable having him brushing up against her, she quickly got up with Hedwig and made her way to the dresser chair.

Harry was wondering whether Dumbledore and McGonagall had gone insane over the summer to select him as a mentor. Of all people, they should be the ones to know he was in no condition to mentor anyone. How could he provide a positive influence on another person, he thought miserably, when he himself was nothing more than a heap of yesterday’s grime.

“This must be some kind of sick joke. Dumbledore must have gone mad,” he chuckled bitterly. “ME? Mentoring a first year student? What a farce!

“I think I’ll do more harm than good to the poor innocent soul who would have the misfortune to be matched with me…

“Hermione gets all the good grades. Ron is prefect. The only thing I’m__”

“GGGIINNNYYYYY…”

“IN A MINUTE, MAAAAAAAA.........!”

She bolted up and roared at the floor furiously, pounding madly with her foot, obviously fed up with her mum’s constant screaming. She was so loud it appeared her puncturing voice had silenced the entire house. Hedwig immediately flew out of her arm and rushed to Harry’s shoulder.

“Ahhem… Harry. Erm…please… continue,” she lowered her voice patiently, trying to lower her blood pressure, noticing that both Hedwig and Harry were gawping at her.

“Erm… what were we just talking about?” he grinned and shook his head confusedly. He never realized such power could thunder out of those strawberry lips.

At the sight of the awkwardness, she couldn’t help but giggle herself, “About you being selected… as mentor…”

Harry’s eyes fell dejectedly to the parchment.

“Dumbledore has his reasons to select you,” she continued somewhat breathlessly, still trying to lower her heartbeat, her eyes inadvertently finding their way to his untidy jet-black hair. He needed a trim, she mused. She wanted to trim him now.

Her nostrils could feel the temperature of the air rising dramatically as her breathing became choppy and shallow, “You… have many… commendable qualities, Harry…

“It’s… not just… good grades… and being prefect and stuff like that,” her gaze was now situated at his blameless lips. He was biting at them, and it reminded her of how he used to nibble at her ears, and in her dreams, at the more intimate parts of her body as well.

“What you have… to offer… is more than… anything… in this world,” she unwittingly ceded control of her eyes, and they tumbled yearningly to his wholesome shoulders, which have seemingly broadened handsomely over the summer.

“And it’s…” she admired his heaving chest, his shirt clinging boyishly to his body.

“It’s… It’s…” she couldn’t continue as her dilated pupils now had a mind of their own. They found themselves buried intensely at his center, his thumping center, captivated by the way it was fluttering ever so gently underneath his shirt. It used to quiver for her. It once belonged to her. He once belonged to her, every inch of him. She was slipping.

Harry poked his head up just enough to meet Ginny’s scorching gaze, wondering why she was suddenly sounding very breezy.

“Oh, here you are, Harry!” Hermione suddenly stormed in. Harry immediately broke off their connection and got up from the bed.

Hermione paused curiously, sensing she had just accidentally barged in on them. She noticed both of them were blushing.

“Oh, I think I left my wand downstairs,” she lied and quickly danced out, even though she spotted Hedwig and wanted to know what she had brought.

“I better go too,” Harry followed.

It was as if Harry had shot four arrows at her heart. She didn’t want to see him go. She wanted him to stay, at least just for a little while longer. As he slowly made his way out, Hedwig started to nip hysterically at his ear.

“Ginny, thanks… for listening,” he paused at her doorway and turned around.

All she could muster was a faint nod. She quickly turned away and strolled to the window, staring bleakly at the dark skies, the shadowy stars, her vision blurred by her tears, their shine becoming opaque. Fearing for the worst, she could anticipate what he was going to do now. Why did he always have to be so courteous, she thought to herself helplessly. She was hoping he would just leave and not say them, those exact words that meant so much to them last year. Hearing them would just make her remember all those goodnight kisses they shared that were no more.

“Oh, I almost forgot…” he was still lingering by the doorway, gazing at her back. Ginny gave up. She was certain he was going to say them. She closed her eyes, squeezed every bead of heartache out of them, letting them drip uncontrollably to the floor, and readied herself for his voice that would carry those words across the room.

“Goodnight Ginny…

”I... love... you…………………

“…pleasant dreams,” he muttered warmly.

She swore she could hear him say he loved her, but she couldn’t turn around to face him and to see him go. She didn’t want to show him what he had done to her and how much he hurt her. She grabbed the curtains helplessly, telling herself she was not to display her tormented scars to him.

“Goodnight, Harry… Pleasant dreams…” she sobbed to the hazy stars.

“I love you too… Harry Potter…”

Chapter 4 Instincts Of The Thumping Heart

“Blimey! You’re so bloody lucky, getting exempted for one subject!” Ron hungrily snatched the letter away from Harry. “How come I’m not the chosen one?”

“Mr. Prefect, where would you find the time to be a mentor?” said Hermione smugly, snatching the letter and handing it back to Harry before he was able to finish.

“I think it’s a great idea. Harry, you’ll be a terrific big brother. Whoever be matched with you will be one blessed kid. I’m proud of you!”

“Oh yeah? Well, I feel sorry for him! Are you kidding? Poor guy here stuck with a first year monster for the whole term, following him around the school and that, like... like... a pair of chopsticks!” George sneered.

Oliver's eyes flickered and his face suddenly stiffened. But no one noticed because they were too occupied with Harry's latest revelation.

“Is Dumbledore for real here? That this idea of his is gonna be enriching and rewarding… to be big brother to a pesky brat?” Fred jumped in and glanced at Ron.

Hermione flashed them a look of disgust, wondering who could ever be more monstrous or pesky than the two of them combined right now.

“Harry, sleep well last night?” asked Mrs. Weasley worriedly, noticing his puffy eyes. “Not used to the bed?”

He grinned and nodded tiredly, knowing it wasn’t the bed that was the problem.

“Mum, it’s not the first time Harry slept here!” added Ron. "You should ask Oliver instead."

"Oh... it... everything's okay, Mrs. Weasley. Thanks," Oliver replied confusedly, waking up from his thoughts as soon as he heard his name.

Hermione glanced over at Ginny, whose eyes were glued to the floor. She appeared to have also endured a rather rough night, judging by the echoes of tossing and turning Hermione heard.

“Okay kids, just be careful! Don’t get too rough. Remember, it’s only a game…

“Oliver, you’re the oldest. I trust you’ll keep them in one piece,” Mrs. Weasley called to him as the seven of them walked out with their brooms.

“Keep an eye out on Ginny!” she ordered him as Ginny rolled her eyes.

“And Harry too… and Ron… and…” her voice gradually faded.

It was a gorgeous cool morning and Fred and George decided to try a friendly game of a much smaller scale of Quidditch before they returned to the joke shop. Breathing in the refreshing air had apparently energized both Harry and Oliver. Because there were only seven of them, they had to improvise and change some rules. The twins suggested eliminating the Seeker and having only one Beater and Chaser on each team. Hermione bewitched some pumpkins and plants and turned them into what looked like a Quaffle, Bludgers, and goal posts standing at opposite ends of the field.

Since Oliver and Ron were trained as Keepers, they were on separate teams and were chosen as the team leaders. Fred and George assumed the role of Beaters, and Fred teamed with Ron and George went with Oliver. The Chasers had yet to be chosen. Amongst the group, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione were left unpicked so far.

“Oliver, you’re the latest guest, you get first pick for your Chaser!” Ron offered graciously.

Remembering that Oliver had made fun of her about playing Quidditch, Ginny slowly marched towards Ron. She had no doubt he would choose Harry.

“Ginny be my Chaser!” said Oliver surprisingly.

Ginny squirmed and stared at him shockingly, seeking reasons for his choosing her over Harry before walking towards him apprehensively.

Hermione, foolishly thinking that since she was Ron’s girlfriend, he would definitely not leave her the humiliation to be the last one standing, so she proudly strolled towards him.

“Harry!” Ron announced happily as Hermione’s enthusiastic steps came to a screeching halt.

“WHAT?? WHAT ABOUT ME??” she shrieked as Harry smirked and quickly hurried over to Ron, seemingly afraid to witness the grave consequences of his best friend’s decision.

“But Hermione… you hate Quidditch… and… and… you haven’t played before…” Ron’s ears were blazing and his cheeks red from embarrassment. “Besides, you must be kidding if you think I would choose you over__”

“Hermione can be our referee,” Ginny immediately jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension, noticing she was ready to bite Ron’s head off. “We need a referee… to keep our scoring. The referee is very important.”

Everyone nodded except Ron, who was staring at the ground sheepishly. Hermione glared at him threateningly, stabbed her broom against the ground and snarled, “Agreed! I’ll be referee!”

“Okay, that settles it. Let’s play!” George announced as everyone flew to the water blue skies.

Before Oliver made his way to the goal posts, he hovered next to Ginny.

“Your mum told me to look after you…” said Oliver presumptuously.

“Is that why you chose me? TAKE A HIKE, YOU MADMAN! I CAN LOOK AFTER MYSELF!” she fired back.

“No, that’s not the reason…

“Go aggressive on Harry, okay? Throw him everything including the kitchen sink if you have to! He won’t fight back!” Oliver whispered excitedly.

“WHAT?” asked Ginny confusedly as she was busy bundling up her hair.

“I know Harry. He’s always a gentleman with pretty girls! We’re definitely going to win this one, you’ll know what I mean!” he winked before he sailed to his position.

Ginny’s stomach lurched slightly but it wasn’t due to his unexpected compliment. Oliver was absolutely right, she thought to herself sickeningly. Harry was a gentleman, in fact, too much of one, at least when he was with her. In the past, she was always the one initiating all the intimate cuddling and kissing. When she tickled him to near death in her bed last summer, he would still never fight back and would always let her have her way with him. It was the reason she concluded last year he never really loved her the way she loved him.

But he certainly wasn’t one with Aria Hannibal, she growled jealously. He was an animal with her, and she had her way with him on a much deeper, intimate level. Ginny had believed all along naively that he was finally complete with her by his side, at least that was what he kept telling her last year. Yet he still went astray. He played with fire, broke her heart, and ultimately burned her to ashes.

She was never fully convinced that Harry’s actions last year were the entire result of Aria’s manipulations. She knew Harry; his will and determination were unrivaled. No one could make him do things if his mind was set otherwise. He was strong enough to even overcome curses that attacked his will power. Anger swept through her veins when she spotted him with the Quaffle and was speeding aggressively towards Oliver, dodging one of George’s Bludgers along the way.

“So that’s why Oliver chose me over Harry… He thinks Harry will be a gentleman with me…” she hissed, clenching her teeth.

“Let’s see how much longer can you maintain your gentleman ways, HARRY POTTER!” she raced viciously towards him, trying to cut him off. Her vision was once again hampered by tears, but this time they were tears of rage.

Seeing Ginny shooting towards him, Harry immediately lost his balance in confusion for some reason. Seizing the opportunity, Ginny smothered into him with all her weight and angrily ripped the Quaffle away from his grips before elbowing him madly in the chest, her mighty efforts almost knocking him off the broom. It was clear she was trying to provoke him to fight back. But he did nothing except wincing in pain. Choking back tears, she quickly sailed away at top speed towards Ron at the opposite end, who seemed startled, because he didn’t expect his little sister was able to steal the Quaffle so easily and would now race towards him like a red fiery beam, threatening to score a goal on him. But before he was able to pull himself out of his thoughts, Ginny had scored.

“SCORE! Point for Oliver!” Hermione screamed hysterically from below. She seemed especially thrilled that Ron got scored on.

“It’s ten points!” Harry corrected her resentfully, catching his breath and rubbing his chest from the thrashing he just received from a very violent Ginny.

“Wasn’t this just a friendly game?” he mumbled to himself in confusion before spotting Ginny’s blazing trail again, in possession of the Quaffle. With his Firebolt, he successfully caught up to her and was now flying next to her. But instead of pushing Ginny and fighting for possession of the Quaffle, he found his arms stubbornly immobilized.

“AAARRGH…” he suddenly bellowed in pain, seeing stars in broad daylight, only to realize Ginny had just smacked him across the face, sending him into a tailspin.

“WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?” Harry yelled to himself.

Too busy with his conflicted thoughts and oblivious to the surroundings, he rubbed his bruised cheek but was very glad he didn’t lose his glasses because she punched him very hard. He quickly steadied himself to look for Ginny, in an attempt to steal the Quaffle from her again.

Ron was more alert this round, having experienced his sister’s talent and aggressiveness just moments ago. Apparently, Fred was too; Harry saw him pounding a Bludger to Ginny’s direction as she zoomed straight-line towards Ron in full concentration.

An abrupt sense of desperation emerged inside him at the sight of this and he was seeing stars again. Immediately, an urgent voice zapped through his head, dictating him to not let the Bludger hit Ginny. Forgetting that she was playing against him, he unintentionally commanded his Firebolt to drive at top speed and raced towards her, clearly wanting to intercept the incoming Bludger.

A loud explosion ripped across the skies when the Bludger splashed Harry in the head and exploded upon impact, the heavy force of the collision sending him crashing towards Ginny. Ginny, being too concentrated on her flight path and her vision distorted by tears, was oblivious to the incoming Bludger and what just took place next to her. The momentum from Harry suddenly colliding into her made her unknowingly lose her balance and her grip on the broom, sending her into a freefall.

Miraculously, Harry, with his face, eyes, and glasses filled with pumpkin flesh, somehow was able to rush to her aid. It was as if he knew instinctively where she was in the air exactly. He accelerated with his Firebolt, managed to grab hold of her by the waist, and they sailed safely to the ground. Everyone quickly abandoned their posts and tailed them immediately.

Mrs. Weasley, watching the match attentively from her kitchen window, had dropped her mug to the floor when she witnessed what just happened, but she stopped herself from running to find out if they were okay, after seeing Harry grabbing hold of Ginny and landing safely on the ground.

She didn’t want to run out anyway; she didn’t want them to catch her joyful tears, which were all over her face now, highlighting a deep proud smile underneath. As she gazed at the two of them, their awkwardness, their innocence, with Harry dripping in pumpkin flesh and still holding Ginny by the waist, she couldn’t help but giggle to herself. She could clearly see how important her baby daughter was to him, judging by what just took place. The bond they shared was unshakable. He would always be there for her, from saving her in the Chamber and the dream curse, to the little silly things like this.

She recalled the night Harry slipped into Ginny’s room and accidentally kissed her goodnight instead of Ginny. She remembered how adorable they were, standing frozen with fear, when Harry finally summoned his courage and asked her for her blessing to date her daughter. They were the perfect couple, she laughed to herself, her precious daughter and the boy she had come to love like her own son. In her mind, whatever he could have possibly done to hurt Ginny last year was entirely forgiven.

Chapter 5 Decorative Tears

“Ginny, are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock you off like that!” asked Harry frantically as he finally released her waist but he was still hovering next to her rather closely. Trying to catch his breath, he quickly cleaned his glasses and eyes with his sleeve so he could peer at her more clearly, as if he wanted to make sure she was truly unharmed, because when he caught a glimpse of her during their descent before she turned her head away, he swore he noticed tears under her eyes, which were glistering colorfully when the morning sunlight graced her face.

It was a stylish and timeless descent to the ground, with the two of them floating flawlessly in the breezy cool sunlight, with her in his arms. If only their hearts were linked like they used to be, because incidentally, both just wanted to fly forever.

“I’m fine… thanks…” she answered shakily, locking her soaked downcast eyes to the ground as she distanced herself away from the group.

Harry suddenly reached for her hair but he startled her so much she quickly darted backwards.

“I’m sorry… there were pumpkin seeds in your hair… I saw some… I just wanted to brush them off…” he muttered nervously.

“Fred, why did you have to pound that Bludger like that? I thought it was only a friendly game!” asked Harry disapprovingly, his veins twitching in his neck. In his head, something was clearly bothering Ginny. He had forgotten he was the one who took the direct hit to the head. Taking his anger out on Fred, all he was worrying about was whether he hurt Ginny when he rammed into her in the air. He was blaming himself for making her cry.

“Harry, why did you do that for? You’re supposed to be on our team, not Oliver’s!” Ron complained angrily.

“Now now, don’t take it out on Harry just because our little Ginny scored on you!” George taunted.

“Yeah! Amazing move you have! Excellent flying!” Oliver patted her back impressively and turned to Harry. “You too!”

“Yeah! Amazing move you have! Excellent goal keeping! Letting a first time Chaser score!” Fred imitated Oliver’s tone and howled at Ron, who was fuming and gaping at Harry, his ego badly bruised.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to the house… and clean up!” Ginny interrupted their heated exchange, turned away, and choked hoarsely. She only had some pumpkin seeds and juice in her hair and face. Normally, getting down and dirty during Quidditch matches would not bother her at all, but this time she had no choice but run because she didn’t want the others to see her tears, which were now streaming all over her face. As she stormed back to the house, she refrained from wiping her eyes with her arms. Instead she let them flow freely, fearing they would suspect she was crying.

“Mum!” Ginny was caught off guard when she opened the door to catch Mrs. Weasley standing in front of her, gazing at her deeply with her glazing eyes. Ginny quickly hid her face and frantically wiped her tears.

“Ginny, dear__” Mrs. Weasley whimpered, also brushing her eyes with her apron.

“Just… some dust… in my eyes… very windy out there… I’m all right, mum.”

“No, you’re not. I saw what happened… and… I can see Harry… and you… I think he… he still cares about you… and you care about him too…

“So… why don’t you… try to… work things out with him?”

Ginny forced herself to shake her head and choked defiantly.

“You want me to talk to__”

“NO!” Ginny cried, trying to sound as assertive as possible. “Mum, I’ve moved on. I’ve really moved on…”

“No, you haven’t. You still love him. Or else you wouldn’t be crying like this… And his jacket will not be in your closet…”

Ginny stared at her disapprovingly.

“I didn’t mean to go in it… but I… recognize it’s his, and I see…the way you have it so carefully placed behind the closet door…

“Please Ginny… You never told me why you broke up with him. Harry is perfect with you… What did he do that was so awful__”

“Mum, I told you already! He did nothing wrong! We’re just… not meant to be… We are… incompatible! But it’s not… his fault!”

“Clearly his being here is upsetting you. You want me to… ask him… to leave?”

“NO! I’m fine! Really! Please mum! He needs people around him… people to help… him, care about him, love… him…especially now…”

“But… what about you? What about… your needs, your feelings? You need people… to care about you too…”

“I’M FINE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Ginny shrieked madly.

Mrs. Weasley wanted to hug her but before she was able to do so, Ginny had already stormed upstairs. Her stomach was twisting with gnawing pain because she realized there was nothing she could do to alleviate her daughter’s heartache.

Meanwhile, back in the fields, the six of them were still debating as to what happened. Harry was as confused as ever, his stomach flipping at the sight of Ginny’s torment and her dashing away. Despite her insisting she was unharmed, he was certain he had hurt her during the collision, because he could sense she was upset. He felt like he wanted to stop her and examine her to make sure she was truly unhurt, even though she punched and elbowed him earlier, for which he had seemingly forgotten and forgiven her because she could do no wrong. His mind was now flooded with her images of pain, the sensations of her red hair and the feeling of his arm around her, sailing together in the skies. The feelings were hazy but oddly familiar, and he wanted to put his arm around her again, to comfort her for some reason.

“Harry, you didn’t answer my question!” Ron hissed.

“Uh?” he asked distractingly as he finally unglued his eyes from the skies. He had just been staring blankly at the spot where he crashed into Ginny; he had forgotten what the argument they were having was about.

“Harry’s right,” said Hermione, her fiery eyes traveled contemptuously from Ron to Fred.

“Right about what?” asked Harry.

“It’s just a friendly game! Fred, you didn’t have to hit it so hard!”

“Hit what?”

“What do you know about Quidditch?” snapped Ron.

“You people made me referee, and in my opinion, the Bludger should not be hit that hard at someone. Look at him! Look at the impact! The mess on his face! What if it were a real Bludger!”

Everyone laughed except Ron, who was still upset at Hermione. It was unclear whether they were laughing at Harry’s disheveled appearance or Hermione’s feeble grasp of the game.

“As I’ve said before, this Quidditch thing adds nothing but tension between people! I don’t want to be participant to such a violent game anymore,” she grabbed Harry’s arm. “Come on. Let’s head inside so you’ll clean up.”

“Wait!” Harry hurried to gather up Ginny’s abandoned broom as Hermione dragged him towards the house. But instead of pulling him to the door, she accompanied him to the backend.

“Harry, you didn’t answer Ron’s question,” Hermione whispered curiously.

“What was his question again?”

“Why did you block that Bludger that was aiming for Ginny?” she glared hopefully into his eyes.

“Erm… I dunno… It… just happened. One second I saw it blasting towards her… the next second my Firebolt was racing to intercept. I dunno…”

“But you’re not supposed to help a player from the opposite team. Is there something you’re not telling me… about Ginny?”

“I SAID I DON’T KNOW… AARGH!!” Harry roared and winced in pain, holding his chest.

“What’s wrong? Your scar?”

“Hermione, my scar’s not here!” he pointed at his chest and sighed sarcastically.

“WAIT… Didn’t Ginny elbow you and punch you?”

“You saw all that and you didn’t call foul?” he complained begrudgingly, now starting to massage the bruise on his face. Hermione blushed and shrugged her shoulders innocently.

“It just happened so fast, Harry… Oh, hi Ginny!” Hermione called out excitedly when she spotted her observing them from her bedroom window.

Harry immediately turned his head up and locked his eyes with hers.

“That was a good move you made against Ron! Thank you for putting him in his place for me!” yelled Hermione.

“I have your broom here, Ginny,” he was hoisting it with his Firebolt. “I’m sorry I bumped into you like that.”

“Thank goodness Harry blocked the Bludger, Ginny! Otherwise you’ll be the one covered in pumpkin juice,” Hermione winked at her teasingly.

“Thanks Harry,” Ginny muttered grimly, slowly breaking off their gaze and pulling away from the window.

“No… problem…” he called out warmly. But before he could finish, she had already disappeared. Still gazing at her window, he was wondering why he wasn’t even mad at her for punching and elbowing him earlier.

As Harry’s eyes were still fixated at the window, watching the curtains slowly closing, covering his view of her room, Hermione studied him carefully, seemingly in deep thought.

“Perhaps there’s hope after all…” she smiled breathlessly.

“Uh?”

“Erm… nothing! I’m gonna head back to the fields… you know… to torment Ron some more… You just relax your mind and let… whatever come to you come to you. Let things flow naturally…

“Ginny must still be in her room. Why don’t you… umm… give her back the broom?” Hermione smirked and quickly dashed away, as if she wanted to leave him alone, so she wouldn’t disturb his thoughts.

Ginny was leaning by the wall next to the window, still gripping at the curtains that were now closed. It was the first time she caught his bright green eyes like this since he arrived at the Burrow. For some reason, she could sense his eyes were looking at her differently compared to the days in school. This time she felt a familiar sense of warmth and endearment coming from him. She was convinced he felt something for her. Perhaps he did say he loved her last night when he wished her goodnight and that she wasn’t imagining things after all.

Admittedly, there was something enchanting about seeing a boy from the bedroom window, especially when it was Harry with a broomstick. The memory of his promise that he would always take her with him anywhere, anytime, with his Firebolt resurfaced again.

She wanted to check his eyes again to confirm her suspicions, but she was pretty sure he was back in the house by now. He must be toweling himself or something. But her curiosity was overwhelming her; she could not just stand here and not find out, so she slowly and carefully lifted the curtains just enough for her to take a peek again. Unfortunately, she was right. He had disappeared. He was no longer lingering for her by the window.

Feeling disappointed, she let go of the curtains. She was angry with herself for acting silly, for getting her hopes up again for him, when she should be letting him go.

“AARGH… I’m supposed to move on!” she shook her head violently, trying to stuff some sense back into her.

She hated him very much because he had made her cry again. Even though she told everyone she didn’t hate him, she took her anger out on him during the match, taking every opportunity to knock him senseless. She wanted to provoke him, really wanted him to hit back, so she would have a reason to hurt him badly. But it didn’t work. He was always a gentleman. Oliver was right.

To make matters worse, he came to her aid despite her punching him, elbowing him, and hating him so deeply she was blinded by her raging tears and couldn’t detect the Bludger. Perhaps it wasn’t due to her tears; perhaps she couldn’t see the Bludger because she was too tired. After all, she couldn’t sleep last night because she was constantly thinking about him and what he was dreaming about, while he was sleeping next door to her. She wondered whether she would ever be a part of his dreams again. But there she was just now, flying with him on his Firebolt as he held her tightly by the waist, exactly like he had promised, and exactly like she envisioned every night in her dreams.

She rubbed her abdomen yearningly, savoring the feeling of being held by him, his arms around her again. It was wonderful…

“NO…NO…NO!” she grilled herself again.

“AARGH! Why do my knees always melt every time I see him with a broomstick? Why does he always have to have a broomstick with him? And now he’s got two!” Ginny screeched in frustration.

“I better get back out before they suspect anything,” she quickly checked her reflection and wiped away all her tears.

“UURGH! DAMN IT! I’ve to find Harry to get my bloody broomstick back!”

Seething with rage, she muttered to herself repeatedly as she opened her door, “Stop thinking about Harry’s broomstick… move on… forget Ha__”

She gasped and recoiled her steps when she almost collided with someone as she marched out. Her body readied itself to cascade at the sight of him. Apparently, he was startled too. He had just taken a shower, and droplets of warm water from his wet hair unwittingly sprinkled on her cheeks when he whipped back. He was not wearing his glasses and was standing merely inches away from her, holding a broomstick. It was her broomstick. She was frustrated but mesmerized.

Chapter 6 I Said I’m Sorry!

Standing there spellbound, Ginny ceded control of her disobedient eyes, which were unknowingly fastened with his for what seemed like an inordinate period of time. His green glistening gaze was much more enchanting and intense without the glasses; they were roasting captivatingly at her insides and drawing her in like a magnet, so deep she was beginning to see herself and her reflection in them.

She had never seen him like this before ever since he lost his memory of her, so close, ingenuous, candid, and personal. There were still water droplets on his chin. His hair was wet and disheveled, and his cheeks were glinting with radiant pink, one of them sporting a purple bruise from her punching him earlier. He must have rushed through his shower to catch her because his shirt buttons were completely misaligned and the collar was rolled inward.

He could do no wrong in her mind now. Her rage was completely obliterated, overcome by his wholesomeness and pure innocence. All she wanted to do now was cuddle him, hold him, comfort him, protect him, and love him, just like she had always wanted to do and just like she was always destined to do, because she was his beloved, his soul-mate, and his guardian angel.

“Erm… Ginny… Sorry to startle you… I… was just… I just want to give this back to you,” he handed the broom to her timidly.

Just when she was about to lose her balance at the sound of his voice hitting her eardrums, she abruptly grabbed hold of the broom for support. Thankfully, he was holding it tightly, as if instinctively, he knew she needed his strength now.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You know… when I… crashed into you earlier… sorry about that…” he muttered curiously, seeing how unstable she appeared to be.

”No, I’m not okay… but it’s not because of what happened this morning…”

“I mean… I hope I didn’t hurt you… I really didn’t mean to…”

”Yes, you hurt me all right… more than anything in the world last year… I really want to believe you didn’t mean to, but… is that why you are constantly apologizing to me nonstop ever since you arrived here…”

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized again, finally releasing his grip on the broom.

Her anger was rushing back, because his endless apologies for all the wrong reasons were driving her crazy. As her eyes began to blaze madly, she wanted to punch him again.

“Eh… I was wondering… you know… if I can… come in,” he whimpered hoarsely as he continued to gaze at her, inching closer. He was so close she could smell the fresh scent of soap he used, as well as the moisture and his body heat. They were electrifying every part of her skin. Distracted by all this, the tone of his lingering voice once again hypnotized her senses, and it managed to quell her anguish and tears. She was enthralled with him once more.

Ginny saw herself stepping aside and making way for him to enter. As he slowly walked past her, the back of his hand waltzed across her abdomen, sending tickly vibrations all over her body. This was already the third time he touched her in less than two days, once by the staircase and the other when he saved her. She was unsure whether he did it deliberately this time, although admittedly, she didn’t give him much room to maneuver. As he strolled to her dresser chair, she saw her arm softly close the door behind her, keeping them safely alone in her crammed room.

“Oh man! My shirt!” he finally noticed how ridiculous he looked with the misaligned shirt from his reflection. As he unbuttoned it, Ginny's heart skipped a beat when she got a glimpse of his bare quivering center from the mirror. She also spotted the bruise on his chest and remembered painfully how she elbowed him very hard earlier in the match, in addition to punching him. She was beginning to regret her recklessness, of her taking her rage out on him.

“Sorry!” he blushed and turned around shyly, realizing it was inappropriate to undress in front of her like that while they were alone in her room.

She chuckled sadly at the sight of his awkwardness. Because of his memory loss, he no longer remembered she had already seen and felt his nakedness countless times before. Those intimate and desperate moments they had once shared, when all hope was seemingly lost, were clearly all but wiped clean.

“Ginny…” he murmured breathlessly as he approached her carefully after fixing his shirt. “I… have a small favor… I want to… ask you…

“I… I think they were… broken when I got hit…” he pulled his glasses out of his pants pocket and handed them to her. One of the arms was undone.

Ginny knew he was lying. She clearly remembered they were not broken. He had just been wearing them and observing her outside the window with Hermione earlier. She was wondering hopefully if this was just his excuse to come in. Besides, in the past he would always approach Hermione when he had problems with his glasses. But she didn’t want to confront him; she wanted him to stay to prolong this beautiful fantasy.

Struggling to breathe, Ginny found herself methodically retrieving her wand from the desk and repaired them. As she handed them back to him, his fingers caressed her palms lingeringly, as if he didn’t want to let go, just like the way with the broomstick earlier. Ginny’s whole body recoiled as he slowly guided her hands to his face, wanting her to put his glasses on for him.

“Thanks… Ginny… I… also have another favor to ask you…” he squeezed her palms onto his wet cheeks before finally letting go.

“Can you help me… trim… my hair?” he sat himself down on her dresser chair.

With her feet light and airy, she retrieved a pair of scissors from the drawer and hovered behind him, both staring at the reflection of the two of them. If only she could grab hold of the reflection and touch it, feel it, keep it, and make it permanent and real, she mused despairingly, because it was indeed a perfect picture. Harry had thought so last year too. He once told her he always carried this reflection in his heart.

She gently played her hands through his wet locks, gradually working her way to his neck, and caressed his sides when he started to giggle.

“I’m ticklish, especially there…” he twitched as he grabbed her hand again, “…and there too…”

”I know… I know. I already know all your weak spots. You already told me where to find them all last year…"

“You still have the dream catcher…” he smiled brightly, recognizing it from the reflection.

“I remember giving it to you… two years ago for Christmas…

“Do… Do you… still recall that night?” he said longingly. “You and I, under the Christmas tree, stacking presents past midnight, like little kids…

“And I said… I want you to have the best dreams in the world. Don’t be like me, always having nightmares all the time…”

Hearing all these familiar words, Ginny immediately froze, her eyes tearing up immensely. Could it be true, she asked herself, that he finally remembered their past together, that he was returning to her, that this wasn’t just another one of her perfect dreams.

As Harry slowly got up from the chair and gazed at her deeply, she placed her hand softly on his bruised cheek. Breathing heavily, Ginny found herself standing there helplessly, her feet melting away, as he leaned towards her, letting her see his eyes up close, which were varnished with tears.

She found her other hand tracing its way to his chest, her fingers gracing his shirt and the buttons. Along the way, she could feel his quivering heartbeat calling for her touch. Seeing the buttons, she couldn’t help but smile. It was because she recalled two years ago, how Harry had to lie to Ron, telling him she was helping him sew back the buttons when he saw his little sister holding his best friend’s clothes in the middle of the night.

Slowly, her fingers gently undid the buttons, and one by one, they began to peel away, exposing his bare chest and the bruise, which was next to his thumping heart. Just like before, he would always let her have her way with him. She pressed her hand on the bruise despairingly, feeling his heartache, hoping she could undo the damage.

His face contorted in discomfort. Seeing this, Ginny wanted to pull away, afraid of inflicting more pain on him, but he quickly placed his hand over hers and defiantly pressed it deeper into the bruise.

“Ginny, no matter what you do to me, I will always be by your side,” he said forgivingly.

“Nothing you can do is going to drive me away…

“I promise you. My eyes will see only you…”

This was all too familiar to her. Ominously, those were the exact words he said to her last year.

Trying to avert his gaze, her eyes fell to his bare abdomen, and it reminded her of what she loved to do to him in her room last summer. Longing to relive the past, she suddenly and boldly sank all ten fingers into him. Just like before, he was laughing madly and running to her bed.

“Stop it!” he laughed.

She found herself chasing him. It was a small room. He could never escape her, and just like before, she melted into him as they rolled playfully in her bed.

Her bed was warm again. Her room was filled with laughter again. She had successfully turned back time like she had always wished for. It was too good to be true.

“I love you Ginny…” he whispered musically to her lips.

She leapt into him and buried him into her bed, kissing him passionately.

Suddenly, a crisp piercing sound of shattering glass could be heard from the room next door.

Startled, Ginny removed her lips from Harry’s and looked up blankly, recognizing the frantic voices that were blasting from next door. They were Ron and Hermione’s.

“Harry? Harry…” she called out tenderly, looking across her room, but he had vanished.

She found herself alone in her bed. But instead of holding Harry, she was cradling his jacket tightly in her arms. She had unknowingly fallen asleep.

Her bed returned sadly to its frozen state. Void of his laughter, her room quickly felt very spacious, lifeless, and conspicuously empty.

“It was just a dream,” she whimpered hopelessly, cuddling his jacket and wiping away her tears as she stared hollowly at the dream catcher.

“A dream… a beautiful dream…”

“I AM SORRY!” Ron’s voice echoed gravely from next door, interrupting Ginny’s sorrow thoughts. Hermione could be heard shrieking uncontrollably, cursing him, and launching all kinds of foul language at him.

“What’s going on?” Ginny immediately stormed to Ron’s room but they couldn’t hear her because of Hermione’s screaming. She had never seen Hermione lose control like that. But as she stared at the floor, she understood the reasons why she was upset. There were shattered pieces of porcelain littered all over and she recognized the broken pieces. They were from the pair of doves she gave Harry two years ago for Christmas that formed the symbol of their bond. Now they were no more, nothing more than a heap of shapeless dregs, remnants of their former love, ready to be discarded.

Hermione was still screaming and pointing violently at Ron, who was sitting on his bed, covering his face bleakly. Harry was trying to calm her down, trying to restrain her, who appeared ready to pounce on him. Just like in her dream, he had taken a shower and his shirt was misaligned, but unlike her dream, he didn’t go visit her in her room.

“Hermione, it’s only a dove statue! We’ll just scoop everything up! That’s all!” Harry demanded. “Calm down! It’s nothing really!”

Ginny’s heart stopped beating when she heard his indifference, his unemotional reaction to the destruction of what they shared. In front of her eyes stood a stranger, a person she no longer knew, a person she was no longer familiar with.

“Why you so worked up, Hermione? Watch it! Don’t step on the shattered porcelain!” Harry continued.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, HARRY!” she barked and turned to Ron again. “YOU IDIOT! IT WAS ONLY A QUIDDITCH GAME! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO TAKE IT OUT ON HARRY! YOU WERE THE ONE THAT LET GINNY SCORE!”

“I SAID I DIDN’T MEAN TO BREAK IT! MY ARM JUST ACCIDENTALLY SWIPED IT OFF THE SHELF__”

“WHILE YOU WERE TOO BUSY BLAMING HARRY FOR YOUR LOUSY GAME! THAT’S WHY YOU WERE FLARING YOUR ARMS LIKE AN ASS! YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT THESE DOVES MEAN TO__”

“What’s going on? What happened?” Mrs. Weasley crashed in. The three of them turned to the doorway and saw her and Ginny standing there. Hermione quickly silenced herself and gazed sympathetically at a teary Ginny, who looked like she was going to die at the sight of all the broken fragments and Harry being so cold about it.

“Is that the doves you once told me Ginny gave you?” Mrs. Weasley asked Harry meaningfully, bending down and examining the fragments. She had seen him holding them preciously by Ginny’s bedside when she was inflicted with the dream curse two years ago.

“Eh… yeah… I guess,” he replied uncertainly. “Ron didn’t mean to break it. We were just about to clean it up. It’s nothing really.”

“If we can find all the pieces I know a charm to get them back together! It’ll be good as new!” Hermione screeched frantically, reaching down to help Mrs. Weasley.

“No, there will still be cracks and scars. Some things just can’t go back to the way they were. It’ll never be the same again,” whimpered Ginny numbly as she left for her room.

“Ginny! Wait! Your broom!” Harry leaped over the broken porcelain and chased after her. Unfortunately for her, he reached her room just in time to catch her tears before she was able to close the door.

“Ginny, your broom… Erm… why… why… are you crying again?” he finally spotted her tears in full view for the first time. She could not deny him anymore. She could no longer hide her scars. She had failed. At last, he saw her crying. Sardonically, he still didn’t understand the true reasons behind those pearls.

“I said I was sorry for hurting you this morning__”

“FOR THE LAST TIME, HARRY, YOU DIDN’T HURT ME THIS MORNING! PLEASE STOP APOLOGIZING!” she slammed the door in his face, leaning her entire weight on it, determined to shut him out, perhaps once and for all.

“But you did… hurt me… really bad… Harry… last year…” she sobbed weakly, crumbling to the floor. Her grinding pain was overwhelming her and confusing her, to the extent that she unwittingly weaved the dream she had earlier with reality.

“Why do you keep on apologizing to me?” she whimpered mockingly.

“… but for all the wrong reasons…

“… you just hurt me even more…”

Chapter 7 Like A Jigsaw Puzzle…

Ginny had expected the pain from what happened yesterday to be much more brutal, but much to her surprise, she was able to stop crying soon after, and was able to detach herself and fall asleep that night as well. It was the best night of sleep she had in a long time.

The doves meant so much to Harry and her since two years ago. They were sacred and a symbol of their love. Now Harry was indifferent seeing them broken. She rationalized that she needed to see them shatter, just like their past, because it provided closure for her. She also needed to see his cold reaction and his indifference. Like an awakening, it would be the final answer for her that they would never go back to the way it was. With her hopes dashed, she was finally able to move on, and stop pursuing something that in his mind, never existed.

Perhaps it was for the better, because as of today, she had ultimately decided that everything that had happened these past two years would also cease to exist in her mind as well. His thumping heartbeat, dashing eyes, and nibbling kisses would now be nothing more than a fairy tale, she mused serenely.

“Happy birthday Ginny!” Hermione clawed heatedly at Ginny’s blankets, waking her up.

Ginny wished she had not done that because she wanted to sleep. It was the first time these past few days she was able to sleep properly without the borderless dreams about the boy next door.

“Please! I want to sleep! I’m not like you! The perfect morning girl!” she protested as Hermione hopped to the end of the bed.

“Look at all the presents from everyone… Mrs. Weasley, Hagrid… even Oliver got you something…” Hermione shook the box curiously and a rattling sound was coming from inside. “I wondered what it is and how he knew…

“This one’s from me. You can see mine is clearly the best wrapped of all because I used a charm that__ ”

She gasped and suddenly fell silent, her eyes misting up.

“What is it now?” complained Ginny annoyingly as she trudged next to her, who was gazing movingly at a blue box.

“Ginny… Harry didn’t forget you… He remembers… He must remember…” she breathed heavily, sniffing back tears and handed the box to her hesitantly.

Staring speechlessly at the box, Ginny didn’t know what to make of this, except what would normally be the expected reaction, which would be a terrible feeling of sadness and longing, shockingly did not emerge inside her.

“So what if he remembers?” she frostily tossed the box back with a thud and keenly retrieved Oliver’s gift. It was the first time she received a present from him.

“You’re not gonna open Harry’s gift?” asked Hermione surprisingly.

“It’ll only remind me of our past. It’s my birthday today. I don’t want to be sad… to be reminded… at least not today…

“I’m fine,” said Ginny hastily, examining Oliver’s bright green box, pretending to not notice Hermione’s disappointed and downcast eyes.

“You know, Ginny… I was there… I saw everything… the way he held you, refusing to let you out of his arms…” Hermione murmured cautiously.

“Who?” asked Ginny absentmindedly as she purposely shook the box loudly, attempting to drown out her pleas with the rattling sounds and pretending to not hear her.

“Remember in Hannibal’s imaginary world where__”

“Hmm… what did the madman get me?” she interrupted as she stopped shaking the box and slowly unwrapped it.

“Madman?”

“Oh, I mean Oliver.”

“Erm, okay. Whatever. Anyway, what was I saying… Oh yeah, I just want you to know that from what I saw there and what happened when we played Quidditch, I’m positive Harry still loves__”

“Hermione, please! I’m begging you! It’s my birthday. Don’t make me sad again… Wow! Check this out!” Ginny smiled amazingly, impressed by the beautiful picture on the box. “Look! It’s Angeline’s Café… at night!”

“That was the coffee shop where you ran into… your Madman?”

“It’s a jigsaw puzzle of the front entrance at night! Isn’t it gorgeous with the lights beaming like that? It was early morning when I was with him! Seriously, I refuse to believe this could be the same coffee shop I went to…

“I bet there are many other pretty places in London I haven’t seen! You know what I’m gonna do! I’m going to complete the puzzle and make him take me there again!”

Hermione found herself speechless and her gut twisting, stunned by Ginny’s unusual behavior. She had expected her to be despondent given what happened with the doves and had planned to cheer her up this morning. Instead, Ginny was already in very good spirits; in fact, she was too cheerful and unusually verbose, as if nothing happened. Seeing her so warm with Oliver and cold with Harry was also bothering her immensely.

“You know, Oliver is nice but he’s too old for you. Like you’re still in school and he’s an adult. Harry’s different. You’re a perfect match with him. The two of you. Now that’s what I call a perfect picture… Ginny… Ginny… are you listening?”

“Uh?”

“Oh, never mind. I’m going to wake up the others,” said Hermione crossly as she got up in frustration, noticing Ginny was too preoccupied with Oliver’s gift and wasn’t listening to her support for Harry.

“Hermione, wait! Stop! I’m sorry,” she pleaded to her patiently. “I know you’re a good friend and you’re worried about me and you really want Harry and I to be together like the old days. But remember what I asked you before he came? That I wanted you to stop pulling us together!

“What Harry and I shared last year… it was beautiful… I guess Dumbledore’s right. I am lucky to have true love like that grace my life…

“Harry may have forgotten all of it but I certainly never will. But it’s over.

“I needed to see the doves shatter, because the sound woke me up.”

“That wretched Ron, it’s all his fault…”

“No, Hermione. Thanks to Ron I’m able to finally let go and move on. And by feeling better, I’m finally able to be there for Harry, to help him, as a friend, just like you and Ron, and Harry needs all the friends he can get right now, to help him get over the death of Sirius and his burdens… so he can defeat Voldemort. That’s what’s important for him now… Not me… and certainly not us… and our past…

“Hermione, do you understand? It’s better for all of us this way…

“What I learned from this experience is that… loving a person doesn’t mean you have to be with him. That’s too selfish. Instead you just do what you think is best for him, and sometimes it’s gonna hurt.”

“Thank goodness you still love him, so there’s still hope for you two!” Hermione sighed happily.

“He’ll always be in my heart. I can’t deny that,” she sighed annoyingly. “Unfortunately, sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want. Life has a mocking way of playing funny jokes on people.

“It’s pretty cruel if you ask me…” she narrowed her eyes irritably.

“Have you… considered trying to help him recover his memory?”

“How?” she chuckled contemptuously, suddenly glaring at her cynically. It appeared Hermione’s too obvious of a suggestion might have struck a painful nerve.

“Like… Oh, Harry! How are you today? By the way, do you remember how you used to warm up my bed for me with your body heat every evening last summer?

“Now that you’re back again at the Burrow, Harry, do you still want to be my blanket every night?

“Or… how about this!” she continued moodily, her icy voice becoming more sarcastic. “Good day… Harry! Do you remember how you used to lie down right here with your shirt off because I want to nestle on your chest and hear your thumping heartbeat?

“That’s why you don’t have to blush and be shy in front of me because I’ve seen you naked countless times before for the past two years anyway, and do you remember the reasons why…

“Or… Oh, Harry!” Ginny raised her voice frustratingly, ignoring the fact he was sleeping next door. It was as if she wanted him to hear her. “Just to let you know, Harry, I’ve got my fingerprints all over every part of your skin… and my tongue’s been surfing down your throat…”

Ginny stopped when she caught Hermione gaping shockingly at her, aghast by her unedited bluntness. Appalled by her obnoxious and scornful behavior, she felt she could have spared her all those intimate details of them together.

“Sorry, Hermione! Alright… I made up that last one about the tongue. It would have gone down there had it not been him pulling away…

“He’s always afraid he’ll go too far. What is a girl supposed to do to convince a guy as thick-skull as him it’s okay?

“I’ve to tell you… He’s great in the battlefield. But when it comes to this, he’s as dense as a log… always scared of touching me inappropriately…

“Or maybe it’s because he never really loved me that way…

“I’m sure Ron has sneaked a hand on you here and there… but Harry… no, no, no! He’s a gentleman. But if you ask me, he’s as stiff as a Christmas fruitcake! Hermione, why are you still staring at me?”

Hermione quickly pushed her eyes back to the pile of presents. She had not realized her dismayed expressions were still etched all over her face. It was because she had never heard Ginny talk about Harry in such a derisive manner before.

“Besides, what if it’ll also bring back his memories of Aria Hannibal,” Ginny pointed coldly. “Dumbledore’s right. It’ll be too much for him if he remembers that too, especially with everything he has to deal with right now…”

“But… Ginny…” Hermione finally was able to get a word in. But it was fruitless because Ginny got up and turned away.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I really have to brush my teeth; I’m beginning to smell my own breath!” Ginny dashed out of the room and slammed her door shut.

“What you think is best for him… what you think is best for him…” Hermione imitated Ginny’s tone mockingly.

“You silly girl! You should know by now you are the best thing that’s ever happened to our poor Harry,” she jeered as she held up Oliver’s gift, trying to not be drawn in by the captivating picture.

“What’s so dazzling with this stupid puzzle?” she snorted, glancing over at Harry’s unopened plain blue box. “I bet Harry’s gift is ten times more impressive!

“But then again…” she sighed worriedly, shaking her head dejectedly, knowing she was hanging onto false hopes. “Gin’s right. Harry’s a bit of a dense case… I hope he didn’t get her a log for the fireplace…”

Chapter 8 Ten Seconds Back In Time

As expected, Mrs. Weasley baked a stunning horse-shaped birthday cake for Ginny in the evening after dinner. To enhance the festive mood, Fred and George turned up the music and brought back their latest line of inventory from the joke shop, what they called inventions, and booby-trapped the entire house, much to Mrs. Weasley’s dismay. The one they were especially proud of was something they called the “magic motion detector.” According to them, the detector would emit a shrieking ringing sound at random intervals throughout the evening, and everyone must remain still for ten full seconds no matter what he or she was doing. The detector would presumably punish anyone that did not obey the ten-second rule.

No one bothered to ask them what the punishment was but everyone automatically assumed it had to be something nasty and humiliating; they wouldn’t expect anything less from the twins, so everyone including Mrs. Weasley, who had tried unsuccessfully to locate the device, unwillingly agreed to obey. So far this evening, everyone had to annoyingly freeze what they were doing three times already. At one point, Mrs. Weasley had to helplessly watch her pot of soup boil over, and it ended up spilling all over the countertop.

Everyone including Harry sang happy birthday to Ginny. Strangely, his voice was the clearest of them all tonight. At one point, Ginny pondered astonishingly, it even overpowered her mother’s, much to her amusement.

What a difference a year made. Even though she promised herself to forget, tonight’s gathering reminded her so much of last year’s, which was the best birthday she had ever had. During the birthday song that memorable evening, she recalled Harry winking at her daringly every time she caught his eyes, with both of them trying childishly to stay out of Mrs. Weasley’s radar and keeping their relationship a secret.

Those furtive eyes of theirs that evening were to confirm their planned special get-together in her room after the party, where they would finally be alone to have their own private birthday celebrations, while sipping a bottle of champagne he sneaked in from London. He was well aware champagne would always make her feel sleepy. Not surprisingly, she would eventually doze off on his chest as he held her in his arms. She still remembered colorfully how it started to rain that night; the sounds of raindrops would wake her soon after, and she would look up dizzyingly to discover a pair of bright green stars sparkling and watching over her, to make sure she was safe.

”Happy birthday, Ginny… I love you…” he whispered devilishly that night, his voice in harmony with the raindrops as he planted a kiss on her nose.

She realized that all it took to make her happy was to be with Harry; she was as content as she could ever be last year. A heartfelt embrace from him, a goodnight kiss, a timeless gaze, occasional strings of “I love you… You’re beautiful…” they were simple little things that most people took for granted, but they were all she needed; those were the best times of her life.

That year his idea of a birthday present was extremely corny, but she fell for it nonetheless. It was an empty box with only a note inside, saying that he was the present, that Harry was hers, and whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with it, because the gift couldn’t be returned or exchanged.

She jokingly complained she didn’t like the packaging of his gift, and she threatened nastily to strip off all the wrappings before the night was over. Seeing his panic expressions as he ran for his life was priceless…

“Make a wish, Ginny!” Mrs. Weasley interrupted her thoughts as she smiled and closed her eyes. She still remembered cynically her wishes for her and Harry last year, the usual foolish things like everlasting love, never-ending fantasies, forever, eternal… Sadly, she would need separate wishes this year: one for him, one for her, different goals, decoupling paths.

”I wish Harry all the best in the world… that he be safe… and happy… and for me… I guess… to move on… and… maybe… perhaps… if I can… if it’s even possible… to… find… someone… else… to… love and__"

Oliver sneezed, interrupting her indecisive wishes and startling her. She opened her eyes and noticed everyone was now staring at her impatiently.

“Come on, Gin! What did you wish for? The entire star galaxy? We don’t have all day! Blow them out now while you’re still young!” protested George.

Ginny blew out the candles, methodically sliced the cake, and passed each of them a piece. Fred and George were busy fooling around with their new gadgets, while Ron and Hermione shared a slice together. Harry’s eyes inadvertently fell on Ginny as she paced to the window with her plate, wanting to see the entire star galaxy as George said. However, it was a rainy night, and the clouds blanketed all the stars.

Standing by the staircase, Harry wanted to approach Ginny; for some reason he found himself really enjoying being with her and talking to her, especially that first night when he received Dumbledore’s letter about him selected as mentor. But he still remembered her slamming the door in his face yesterday, almost smashing his nose. He didn’t understand why she was upset, crying, and acting so peculiar when all he wanted was to give her back her broom. Clearly, something he did was bothering her; he could hear his name echoing from her room this morning. He couldn’t make out what she said because of Ron’s snoring at all the wrong timing intervals, but her tone was very resentful and argumentative. She must be complaining to Hermione about him. Not wanting to upset her again, especially on her birthday, he decided to keep his distance. Instead, he resorted to just observe her from afar, searching for the reasons as to what he did that angered her. But his eyes rolled depressingly when he saw Oliver approaching her.

“Ginny, did you like my present?”

“Eh… yes. Thanks, Oliver,” she smiled, noticing the ring hanging around his neck. “You didn’t have to. It’s an interesting gift… The picture of Angeline’s Café definitely looks very enchanting at night, with her glass walls and that. I should have it complete in no time... without the help of magic of course!”

“Remember to show me when it’s complete. I truly didn’t know what to give you. It was between that and a log for your fireplace__”

Ginny sneered and jabbed Oliver’s arm as Harry appeared more and more uncomfortable, quietly studying them from afar, enjoying themselves. He could hear the two of them laughing heartily. If only he had extendable ears, he thought miserably, because he was now trying to listen in to their conversation. He was wondering painfully why he always made Ginny upset, and yet it took Oliver merely seconds to make her laugh.

“Anyway… I’m glad you like it. Listen… I’ll make a deal with you. Show me the completed masterpiece and I’ll bring you there at night for coffee… and see the view in person.”

“What? Just you and me? Like you’re asking me out on a date?”

“Don’t get too excited, Furball! Get your mind out of the gutter! I know you fancy me but… just remember to keep reminding yourself I’m too old for you… so try to not let your sweet little heart fall for me! I’m hard to resist but I know you can do it!” he winked nastily, casually twirling the ring around his neck with his finger.

“Oh, please spare me! Don’t make me puke on my birthday!” she gagged him and pinched his arm, unaware that Harry’s eyes were buttered thickly with jealousy.

”RINGGGG…”

Hearing the annoying motion detector and the muffled sounds of laughter from the twins, everyone sighed helplessly. Ginny rolled her eyes and had no choice but to keep pinching Oliver’s arm for ten seconds…

”9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…0…”

…before letting go.

“I DEMAND YOU TWO TO DISABLE THAT BLASTED TOY OF YOURS IMMEDIATELY!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked from the kitchen.

“Listen… Ginny,” he groaned, giving the twins a dirty look as he rubbed his pained arm. “Seriously, I want to let you know. I mean what I said about your flying. Your skills are amazing!”

“Now you believe me when I say I was Seeker last year?”

“I never said I didn’t believe you! But… the reason I’m bringing this up is because I have an idea for the upcoming school year and I think you might be interested. I haven’t ironed out the specifics but it’s basically a competition… teams of two… a guy and a girl, and they’ll perform fancy flying movements and stunts… competing to see which team has the best moves…

“It’s the perfect way to motivate students to practice… I owled Hooch right after that game of ours and she replied almost immediately, saying Dumbledore loves the idea… as long as there’s a safety net on the bottom. He said it’s a perfect distraction from all the gloom and doom…” he continued, with Ginny smiling eagerly at him because she too agreed it was a great idea.

“Anyway, I think you should definitely team up with…” he glanced over at Harry, who immediately looked away, “because the two of you will be unbeatable! I want Gryffindor to win!”

Ginny’s smile and eagerness immediately faded, but Oliver was too excited to notice.

“This idea was actually inspired by you two… seeing the two of you when we played Quidditch, and how he caught you when you fell off the broom… as if he somehow knew instinctively where you were in the air… and then you floated and swirled in the air before landing…I thought you guys were awesome! A perfect match!”

Oliver raised his eyebrow smugly, trying to hide what looked like a smirk, “It also appeared you two have had a lot of practice… flying on the same broom I see__”

“All right! Silence everyone! Shouldn’t the birthday girl get some birthday kisses?” Mrs. Weasley suddenly emerged from the kitchen and wedged between Oliver and Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley smothered Ginny before she could object, “Here’s mine! Happy birthday, angel!”

She slurped her animatedly in the cheeks and dragged her to the staircase where Harry was standing.

“Eeeww, that’s gross!” Fred fretted and chose instead to blow one at her.

“I’ll do the same too!” said George, followed by Ron, laughing and blowing kisses at Ginny.

Mr. Weasley and Hermione elected to give her lighter pecks at the cheeks instead of Mrs. Weasley’s messy version.

Without realizing Oliver had sneaked up behind her, he darted to the front and kissed her on the cheeks, surprising her.

“May all your wishes come true, Ginny.”

At the sight of this, Harry’s windpipe suddenly felt very constricted for some reason. He swore he saw Oliver was about to kiss her on the lips right in front of his very eyes, only to suddenly change direction at the end. He could see Ginny was blushing.

“Harry, it’s your turn,” said Mrs. Weasley eagerly as she shoved him closer to Ginny and bumped Oliver away from the staircase in the process.

“Come on! I want to see a big DEEP__”

“MOTHER!!” Ginny barked furiously, gaping at her madly. It was too obvious what her mother was trying to do with this birthday kiss thing.

Harry could feel all the eyes in the room roasting him as he awkwardly leaned towards her, blushing immensely, thanks to Mrs. Weasley’s dramatic introduction that drew everyone’s attention to him. Just as he gently tilted her head up and planted his lips on her forehead…

”RINGGGG…”

The entire room of people were forced to stare at them as Harry and Ginny had to freeze their positions by the staircase, with his lips on her forehead, her arms pressed to his belly, and their hearts pounding crazily as each second passed them by.

”9…8…7…6…5…”

Harry found himself taken in by the flowery scent of her red hair. A strand was tickling his chin, sending electrifying sensations down his spine. He was immersed by her warmth and softness all around him. Oddly, the feeling was all too familiar to him as a deep sense of affection and fondness bathed his heart.

”…4…3…2.5…2.3…”

He could not explain it, but he felt like he had been with her like this before. He found himself not wanting to let go. He didn’t want it to end.

”…2.2…2.1…”

All he could see was her right now; all he could feel were her skin and her warmth as everything else became a blur with everyone seemingly having vanished from the room. Nothing mattered anymore except her.

”1.9…1.8…1.7…”

Unbeknownst to him, she didn’t want it to end too. But the ten-second window to the past was slowing drawing to a close, despite all their efforts to keep it open.

”1.3…1.2…”

”We’ve known each other before…”

”1.2…1.2…1.3…1.4…”

Both had lost count of the ten-second window that was now sealed as the seconds finally passed them by.

“………”

“Harry…

“Ginny…

“Hellooooo…

“Guys, you can move now… It’s okay…

“You can let go of Gin now…”

Harry, to the surprise of everyone, gently pulled away from Ginny lingeringly instead of the quick awkward snapping back reaction that was expected. Standing by the staircase, Ginny looked up timidly as her eyes inadvertently met his igniting gaze, which was solidly locked onto hers. He had stopped looking at her with that kind of fire ever since he lost his memory, but his eyes were now shining on her intensely, and they were just like the pair of bright green stars she remembered that used to guard over her and made her feel safe and loved.

Chapter 9 The Pain Behind A Watery Magnifying Glass

“Happy birthday, Ginny…” Harry whispered breathlessly as he mustered all his strength to pull away from her, like a magnet trying to fight off another. His cheeks were blazing red and his tongue was in a knot, struggling with all kinds of conflicting emotions.

The kiss to the forehead by the staircase was reminiscent of the first time Harry kissed Ginny there unexpectedly when they were under the mistletoe two years ago back at Hogwarts, and she ended up storming away in tears because he didn’t kiss her on her lips as she expected. That night, she recalled his lips were indifferent and emotionless as they met her hot eager skin that was filled with blood and passion. But sadly this time, it was the reverse. His summer lips were searing with affection, only to be planted on winter skin that was frozen and numb like icicles. Without realizing it, he had kissed a person whose body had gone hollow, and whose heart had already gone cold.

“Thanks,” Ginny smiled ever so pleasantly, breaking off their gaze as she strolled stoically to the dinner table, leaving him frostily in the dust, seemingly searching for something. Her demeanor was indifferent and casual, as if nothing had happened, as if a lingering ten-second plus kiss by an ex-boyfriend in front of a crowd of people was a regular occurrence.

“That was lovely, Harry,” praised Mrs. Weasley triumphantly as she turned to the twins and whispered sarcastically. “It was worth the pain after all, having to carry the two of you brats in my belly for nine months and giving birth to both of you at the same time!”

“More cake, anyone?” Ginny swallowed hard and grinned rather forcefully to the room, making sure everyone noticed her decorative cheerfulness. Apparently having just spotted what she was searching for, she reached for the knife and then swiped a glass of mango juice towards her. As the glass rolled to the edge of the table, Harry leaped forward and caught it just in time.

“Oh, no!” Ginny squealed in an exaggerated manner, looking at the juice splattered on her dress.

“It’s okay! I’ll clean it up, dear! You go upstairs and change!” Mrs. Weasley suggested.

“Okay, mum!” she replied, flashing her actress smile again as she skipped upstairs, her steps quickening, her curtain of joyful choreography gradually unraveling. “Listen, it’s late anyway. I might as well head to bed. Goodnight all! Thanks for a wonderful birthday!”

Ron could be seen grinning hopefully in the background, believing Harry and his little sister were about to reunite again after what just happened. He had been feeling guilty the entire time because of the doves, and he figured that by having them reunite again, it would absolve him of all guilt and Hermione would stop giving him a hard time.

Meanwhile, Hermione’s eyes were filled with hope, noticing Harry’s gaze faithfully following Ginny’s every step once again and Ginny smiling at him. Everything was finally getting back to the way it was, the way it was meant to be, she drooled childishly.

“Should we talk to Harry and ask him, you know… what he thinks of Gin?” Ron nudged Hermione secretly. “I really want them to get back together. I feel so bad with the dove thing.”

“No. Let things go natural. We don’t want to freak him out or anything. It’s just too complicated with his memory loss and stuff like that. Who knows what he remembers now,” she whispered back as she continued to observe Harry, who was looking up at the staircase, apparently trying to flatten his hair.

“We don’t want to disrupt anything unnecessarily. The human mind is a tricky business…

“But from what I just saw, and what I’m seeing right now, I think it’s only a matter of time before… you know… they are together again,” Hermione giggled as she retrieved something from her blouse pocket.

“What’s that? A jigsaw puzzle?” Ron noticed her hand was gripping something and examined it. “What are you doing with one piece of a puzzle in your__”

“Just making sure that a certain someone will not stand in their way of getting back together, that’s all!” she replied devilishly as she glanced at Oliver, who was helping Mrs. Weasley clean up.

“Uh?”

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you later!”

On her memorable birthday last year, opening the door to her room would have her discover Harry sitting on her warm bed and beaming with a bottle of champagne. This year, all Ginny could see was a pale blue box, Harry’s unopened gift, sleeping on her empty bed. His gifts to her were always wrapped in blue for some mysterious reason; maybe he was trying to imply her something, she thought to herself grimly. She clutched it closely and slowly made her way to the window. The rain still hadn’t stopped, and the sounds of raindrops were ever so crisp tonight. The water sounds would be all that were left to keep her company tonight and help her relive the birthday celebrations that took place in her room last year. But instead of sipping cold champagne with Harry, she was now choking on her own cold silent tears by herself, while staring out the window, searching for last year’s pair of bright green stars hidden behind the blanket of clouds.

The days of summer were disappearing fast. A couple of letters from Dumbledore to Mrs. Weasley, warning her to not let the children roam outside unnecessarily because of alleged suspicious whispers and activities from Voldemort’s camp, meant that everyone became a prisoner at the Burrow until further notice. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley included Oliver in the mix as well, forgetting that he was an adult. Suffocating under her iron fist, it wasn’t until he promised he would go directly to Hogwarts that she let him out of her sight. Evidently, he was serious with his idea to organize the team flying competition to encourage students to learn about flying, so he reasoned to her that he had to head to the castle before term started to sort out the details. Ginny wanted to go with him; she wanted to stay as far away from Harry as possible but obviously Mrs. Weasley disallowed it.

Fred and George were the exception to the curfews set by their mother; they were always above the law anyway. Nevertheless, they were busier than ever at Diagon Alley with their joke shop. Business was so brisk they were rarely in the house, and leading their way to success was the magic motion detector they employed on Ginny’s birthday that changed the dynamics of her relationship with Harry to another level.

Dumbledore had arranged Tonks and Lupin to escort Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione to Hogwarts tomorrow for security reasons. He even purchased all their schoolbooks and supplies so they didn’t have to visit Diagon Alley unnecessarily. Ron and Hermione took advantage of the final day of summer and sneaked out of the house to spend more time by themselves. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley was not home either, leaving Harry alone with Ginny, perhaps purposely.

For the past few days, Ginny had been trying to shut Harry out, but he just continued to search for her, following her like a shadow no matter where she was at the house. What was worse was she couldn’t send him away rudely. She knew he wanted to give Ron and Hermione space. With Oliver gone and her twin brothers always out of the house, she was the only one he could go to for company. To top it all, it was ultimately her idea to invite him to stay at the Burrow in the first place. She could only blame herself for this suffocating awkwardness.

Oddly, today Ginny managed to prepare lunch, an entire meal of spaghetti meatballs, sandwiches, salad, soup, milkshakes, and dessert, without Harry on her back. The house was unusually quiet, except the occasional banging sounds echoing from Harry’s room.

“Harry, lunch’s ready!” Ginny called from the kitchen. There was no answer.

It wasn’t like she really wanted to have lunch with him. She would gladly eat alone; she had been trying to keep her distance anyway. However, she wanted to see Harry eat and have plenty to eat. She wanted to fatten him up for his sake. That was why she made lunch that could easily feed an entire Quidditch team.

“Maybe he’s busy packing up for tomorrow,” she mumbled to herself annoyingly as she took off her apron and went upstairs.

She noticed his door was slightly ajar, and she could gradually hear the muffled sounds of his sniffing and choking as she approached his doorstep. Wondering what was going on, she quietly pushed the door open to get a clearer view, only to see that he was kneeling on the floor, apparently staring at his empty trunk, with his tired back facing her, his head drooping lowly, and his shoulders heaving continuously. Glancing around disapprovingly, she realized it was a boys’ room but it was absolutely messy to the extreme. He must have emptied all the contents of his trunk and hurled everything across the room, she thought to herself. She was wondering why Harry was staring at the inside of his trunk, sniffing and choking.

As Ginny was about to utter his name, she immediately swallowed it back when she spotted him wiping his face with his arm, sniffing some more. A sense of deep sadness erupted inside her gut as she watched him wearily reach inside the trunk, and retrieved a piece of broken glass out from it. She recognized it immediately. Ron had mentioned it to her. It was the mirror Sirius gave him. With tears streaming out of her eyes, she finally realized what was happening. He was secretly crying about the loss of his godfather. He must have uncovered the mirror that was buried deep inside the trunk while he was packing for tomorrow.

Harry hadn’t ventured inside his trunk this deeply until today, because he knew what was awaiting him, buried deep underneath his belongings. In a thrust of anger last year, he had broken the mirror when he tossed it inside the trunk. He had destroyed something his godfather had given him as a Christmas gift. He could not forgive himself.

Ginny had never felt pain unleashed on her like this before; the anguish was knifing her throughout her body, and she understood the reasons why. Her mother once explained to her that she would rather die than to see her children get hurt, because the pain from helplessly seeing loved ones get hurt was simply unimaginable and twice as excruciating.

Ginny finally felt the impact of her mother’s words. Watching Harry suffer beyond repair was crushingly unbearable. Seeing his agony, Ginny just wanted to storm in and throw her arms around him, to comfort him and love him, erase his sadness, and tell him everything was going to be okay. Her foot was twitching to move.

“Who’s there?” Harry turned around and wiped his eyes, hastily putting his glasses on, but he couldn’t see anyone. He was startled by the creaking sounds of the floor caused by Ginny’s yearning foot.

Instead of going in, Ginny halted herself and found herself quickly darting behind the wall, hiding and trying desperately to silence her flowing tears and the bleak sounds of her voice ringing in her head, reminding her that the impossible knot in her heart still hadn’t been untied.

”But I can’t, Harry… even though I really want to… But I can’t… and I won’t… not anymore… I’m sorry, Harry… I’ve to keep my distance… I can’t let myself fall for you again… because I can’t risk it…

”You’ll hurt me again if I let you in… I still haven’t forgotten the pain you inflicted on me last year…

”I’m sorry, Harry…”

The house was as silent as ever, with only their muffled sobs and muted tears filling the afternoon air. All that was left was Harry, kneeling alone by the trunk in his room, clutching his broken mirror with one hand and covering his cries with the other, and Ginny, leaning alone by the wall in the hallway, clutching her broken heart with one hand and covering her cries with the other.

Chapter 10 Entrust With You

Currently traveling by the Knight Bus to Hogwarts, Harry was sitting next to Lupin in front of Ginny, chatting casually. She kept quiet with what she witnessed yesterday; it was a private moment he obviously didn’t want anyone to see. But she would never forget what she saw, the image of him slouched against the trunk, sobbing quietly but profusely, and clutching the very mirror Ron had once mentioned to her. She had never seen him more vulnerable, and judging by the way he was, pouring his heart out so sorrowfully and thunderously, it was evident he truly missed his godfather.

In contrast, the boy sitting in front of her now was a completely different person. She realized that the entire time at the Burrow, he had been masking his anguish quite successfully, maintaining a strong front, just like now, even though deep inside, his heart was dying under the weight of Sirius’ death. This was partly the reason why she had almost forgotten about his deep pain he harbored until yesterday, when she got to experience it in full view in front of her eyes.

Ginny could relate to Harry’s struggles to appear strong, to live in a lie, and always running away, because she too, had been doing the same thing, busily putting up a strong image in front of her friends and family. Perhaps it was sympathy or empathy, but without knowing it, she had grown less cold towards him after yesterday. Quietly and discreetly, she found herself once again admiring his messy hair. He needed a trim, she mused again, scrutinizing the uneven layers of his mane from the back. She wanted to trim him again.

“What’s happening? Can’t this blasted box go any faster?” Tonks, sitting next to Ginny, screamed to the front, cutting through Ginny’s starry thoughts, because for some reason, the bus suddenly came to a screeching halt.

It was as if the Knight Bus was playing a cruel joke on them. Of all days, it had to break down today when it was transporting them to Hogwarts. After exchanging a few angry words with the driver, who kicked everyone out rudely, Lupin finally stepped out as the bus vanished.

“We can’t be far from Hogwarts! Look! I can see the castle from here!” Ron pointed at the darkening horizons.

“We can just complete the rest of the trip with our brooms!” suggested Hermione.

“I haven’t got mine with me,” Lupin glanced over at Tonks, who shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

“I promised Dumbledore we’ll take you to the castle… not leave you halfway in the middle of nowhere, wherever this is!” Lupin yelled frantically, pacing around in circles.

Tonks laughed mockingly, getting rather amused by Lupin’s panic behavior, “You should worry more about Molly! You promised her too! Werewolf or not, she’ll personally skin you alive if she finds out__”

“Then we better think of something, Tonks! It’s getting late!” he looked at his watch anxiously. “The last thing we need is Dumbledore and Molly getting worried about four missing children!

“We have no choice! Tonks, take Ginny’s broom and lead the way! I’ll take Ron’s broom and take care of the backend. Ron will ride with Harry on his!”

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, secretly thanking Lupin for not asking her to fly with Harry. But before she even began her celebrations…

“Two boys on the same broom? Isn’t that too heavy of a load?” Hermione schemed wickedly and eyed Ginny and Harry nastily. “Wouldn’t it be more balanced when it’s… like a boy and a girl__”

“Harry’s got a Firebolt!” Lupin cut in exasperatingly, spit flying out of his mouth. “I’m sure it can handle the load of a pigfarm__”

“But it’s__”

“WHO CARES HERMIONE! Oh, whatever…” Lupin gave up. “There’s no time to ponder…

“Ginny, go with Harry then! Ron! Fly with Hermione on hers! Just make sure you wrap your arms around her mouth instead of her waist!”

“What about all our stuff?” asked Harry as he quickly retrieved his Firebolt from the box.

“Don’t worry about them! I’ll cast a spell to make them follow us! Just hurry! And try to stay tight in the middle!”

Seeing Lupin’s sweat rolling down his forehead and his patience clearly running thin no thanks to Hermione’s badgering, Ginny decided to swallow her protests and begrudgingly accepted his plan.

”I’ll get her for this!” a little voice sounded in Ginny’s head when she spotted Hermione’s triumphant smirk.

“Come on, Gin! Hop onboard!” Harry smiled eagerly, waving his arm at her.

Those were the last words she wanted to hear as she reluctantly and stoically climbed on his broom, determined to not let the fire in her heart re-ignite, and not let those endearing memories and promises resurface in her mind.

“Ginny,” Harry muttered lovingly from the front.

“Uh?”

“Hold me.”

“What?”

“Put your arms around me.”

“You heard the man…” Hermione suddenly appeared next to her, giggling and flashing her two big front teeth, “Put your arms around him…” She immediately sailed away with Ron before Ginny could respond.

Ginny couldn’t be more angry at the moment and found herself wanting to punch her as blood was clogging her fiery cheeks. She was blaming Hermione for this. After all, she was in this awkward position because of her. But before she knew it, Harry gently reached for her arms and wrapped them around him.

“Hold me tight, Ginny. And don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he caressed her hands softly, rested them on his belly, and spun gracefully toward the rippling sunset clouds.

The feeling right now was exactly like what Oliver had said to her when he brought up his team flying competition idea. Harry and her were indeed an elegant couple in the air. She was absorbing all of it as his beating heart and glowing warmth slowly defrosted her icy walls, at least temporarily.

“Granger, you’re forgiven… this time…” her little voice echoed again. However, this time it sounded much more sweet as Ginny tightened her grip on him and closed her eyes, while at the same time, slowly fantasizing about actually pairing with him and participating in Oliver’s upcoming team flying competition where together, they would win the ultimate top prize and he would congratulate her by kissing her, resulting in roaring excitement from the crowds. Her reckless imaginations and perfect pictures managed to temporarily suspend the pain in her heart.

Because of the faulty Knight Bus and the relative slowness of brooms, the opening ceremonies had already begun before they arrived. Lupin quickly ushered them into the Great Hall and gave an abbreviated wave to Dumbledore, whose eyes twinkled at the sight of them, before departing with Tonks.

Dumbledore was hovering by the stand, evidently in the middle of a speech. Oliver was sitting between Hooch and McGonagall at the front table. Apparently, the sorting ceremony had been completed, but instead of sitting down, Harry spotted the nervous-looking first year students separated in four groups, huddled at the front end of their respective house tables. There appeared to be some older students mixed in the group as well. The four of them quietly crept to the Gryffindor table and sat down modestly, trying to not draw attention to themselves.

“Let me just repeat what we’re currently sorting out right now, for those that have just joined us,” Dumbledore glanced at Harry’s direction. “As I was saying, some of you sixth and seventh year students may have received a letter from me about the mentoring program that I started this year…”

“Oh my goodness! They’re matching you up now!” panted Hermione excitedly to Harry as Dumbledore continued in the background.

Harry had forgotten all about the mentoring program and him selected as a big brother because the letter was received almost a month ago.

“When I call out your name, please come up to the front and you’ll be matched with your mentee from your house.

“Ingrid Lannar!”

A brown-haired lanky seventh-year girl from the Gryffindor table hurried up to the front.

“Miss Lannar…” Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, “let me see… Okay, got it! You are matched with Miss Joy Mavin.”

A shy little brown-haired girl raised her hand timidly and emerged from the group of first years. Ingrid walked over to her and shook her hand.

“I trust you’ll take good care of Miss Mavin,” he smiled to Ingrid, who hastily nodded her head as they disappeared into the group.

“Okay, the final match up, and then everyone can eat! I’m sure we’re all hungry by now!” Dumbledore studied his list attentively.

Hearing this, Harry’s stomach lurched slightly. He was anxious to find out who he would be matched up with.

“Hmm… we’re not too bad… I see…” Dumbledore delayed his announcement. “We are not that bad with numbers after all, Professor McGonagall. Four for four! We actually managed to get this right! We actually have the exact number of boys and girls for all four houses. What are the odds of that? Or maybe the sorting hat knew in advance...”

Harry’s heartbeat was racing faster and faster. In his mind, he was hoping Dumbledore would just stop rambling and call his name, so he could get this over with.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore announced.

“Good luck, Harry! I hope you won’t get stuck with a pint sized version of a Fred or George!” Ron sneered as he hesitantly strolled to the front.

“Mr. Sam Ryan!” Dumbledore turned to the group of standing Gryffindors. Strangely, no one raised his hand or came forward.

“Mr. Ryan!” Dumbledore tried again.

A little girl with very short silver hair, almost a buzz-cut, and very pale skin except her blazing red cheeks slowly emerged from the Gryffindor crowd. She had pointy features and big gray eyes. Although she was much shorter than the other first years, she was certainly not shy with her tongue.

“You forgot already, sir? I’m not a mister,” she sighed somewhat impolitely. “We just gone through this just now with Professor McGonagall already. Remember? The sorting ceremony?”

“Please forgive me, Miss Ryan. I guess memories go with old age.”

“There must be some kind of mistake,” McGonagall got up and joined the conversation. “The plan was supposed to match a boy with a boy, and not a boy… with a__”

“Yes! I’m a girl, as the entire school just found out during the sorting ceremony!”

A sense of ominous anxiety was starting to blanket inside Harry. The idea of teaming up with this rather brash girl for the entire year would definitely ruin his school year; he was taken back by her rudeness, especially in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall on the first day. Maybe Fred and George were right, he thought to himself miserably. His hands would be full with her. Or worse yet, she could turn out to be a small version of a Fred or George, just like Ron said.

“Mr. Filch, you were in charge of the two lists. Is she in the wrong one?” McGonagall yelled through the hall of jeers and murmurs.

“I don’t know, Professor!” Filch rushed to the front. “I don’t remember what I did! She may be in the boy’s list or something. I guess when I saw her name, I figured…”

“Sam is short for Samantha!” Harry could hear her mumble underneath her breath.

Filch rolled out his list from his pocket, “See, she’s in the right list. She has her name right here. She__”

“I got a name by the way!” she suddenly snapped her finger curtly at Filch and glared at him. She was tired of all his endless references of her as a non-existent invisible third person.

“Professor McGonagall, there’s no need to make a fuss. I don’t see anything wrong with our Harry matching with Miss Ryan over here, if the two of them are okay with the arrangement,” said Dumbledore mildly, shielding Filch away from her, because both looked like they were ready to pounce on each other.

“There’s no law that a big brother must be matched with a boy,” Dumbledore suggested.

“Harry, are you okay teaming up with Miss Ryan here?”

Harry glanced at Ron, who not only gave him a severe look of disapproval from the Gryffindor table, but he was animatedly strangling at his own neck, at the same time seemingly mouthing words that appeared to say, “But she’s a girl…” Hermione and Ginny could be seen trying to suppress what could potentially be a laugh as loud as New Year’s fireworks.

He shifted his eyes to Sam, who was currently roasting furiously at Ron’s direction for some reason, her hands in balls of fists. It was the same burning glare she had for Filch earlier. Perhaps she saw his terrible facial grimaces to Harry just now and she knew he was signaling about her.

Harry was debating frantically inside his mind. At this dire point, as everyone was peering at him, waiting for his answer, he realized he couldn’t care less if he was teamed with a boy or girl. All he wanted was someone with a normal temperament.

”I would settle for Joy Mavin! Why didn’t I get her?” a tiny voice squealed in his head.

To him, she certainly did not appear to have a normal temperament. Teaming with her could potentially be the biggest nightmare of his life. But deep inside, he felt sorry for her, for being put on the spot on her first day. He recalled how nervous he was on his first day at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to reject her in front of the whole school.

But then, Harry put his natural nobleness aside, because he knew he had no choice but to accept. He was clearly aware this girl might peck his head off if he were to reject her now.

“I’ll be Miss Ryan’s mentor,” Harry replied bravely. As soon as he uttered those words, he regretted them immediately, because there were instant gasping sounds from the crowds, followed by chuckles and murmurs of, “Potter’s dead meat now… Potter’s got himself one silver firecracker…” Harry could not help but agree with the murmurs.

Apparently stunned, Sam quickly turned to Harry, seemingly trying to reorganize her facial features, changing her raging expressions she had for Ron and Filch earlier to a much more friendly one. Evidently, she had figured he wouldn’t accept.

“Good… Good. Harry! That settles it! I’ll entrust Miss Ryan with you then,” Dumbledore rushed. “Now, let’s eat! Let the feast begin!”

“Harry Potter here. Nice to meet you, Miss Ryan,” Harry extended his hand shakily as the standing students passed around them to get to their seats. As they passed him by, he could feel their uneasiness; he noticed a few of them were staring at her apprehensively.

With a look of appreciation, she smiled sincerely with a glimmer of gratefulness in her eyes as she gently accepted his unsettled hand.

“Please call me Sam. Nice to meet you, Harry Potter.”

Chapter 11 Her Man, His Girl

During the meal, the only noise in the hall was the clanking sounds of cutlery, with everyone busily stuffing in all they could. It wasn’t until dinner was near completion that people started talking again. The four of them were rather quiet too. It could be because they were all starving from the error-prone journey to Hogwarts earlier. It could more likely be that they were giving Harry a break, trying hard to not make him feel worse than the present, judging by his very long face. As he was eating, he was contemplating why he was always stuck with the worst situations. Keeping his head down the entire time, he didn’t want to catch Sam or even Dumbledore. He was upset at him, for selecting him as mentor. He was now certain that Dumbledore had indeed gone mad this summer for choosing him.

“Harry, something is very peculiar tonight,” whispered Ron joyfully, finally breaking their silence as his eyes scanned across the Gryffindor table.

Harry poked his head up and noticed Ron’s cheeks were somewhat flushed but it didn’t accompany his usual awkwardness. On the contrary, he appeared very confident and self-assured as he flicked his hair flamboyantly.

“Yeah, I was about to say the same thing,” Hermione cut in uneasily, her eyes also darting back and forth at their table and the tables of the other houses. “The girls… they’ve been looking at our direction constantly all evening. And it’s only the girls, from all years… but it’s the way they’re looking at our direction… They… they look like they’re… Erm… how should I say this… they look like they’re__”

“In heat!” Ron pronounced explicitly as Harry and Ginny choked on their dessert.

As Harry glanced across the table cautiously, he caught three seventh-year girls that were huddled together gasp in between their giggles and immediately pulled their heads down, jeering some more. He noticed another girl, probably a fourth-year, smiling sweetly at him and he had to immediately turn away because he was starting to blush. Not knowing what was going on, the corner of his eye accidentally caught the neighboring Ravenclaw table, and the girls there were doing the same thing.

With her eyes darting between the giddy girls and Harry’s blushes, Ginny recognized their reactions. A sense of jealousy swept over her, because they appeared to be flirting with him. She smiled sickeningly, because there was nothing she could do.

“Hey Harry! Ron! Ladies, why were you late?” Oliver came over to them, shielding Harry somewhat from the many flirtatious eyes burning at him.

“A long story for a long journey! You don’t want to know,” Ginny sighed deeply. She was glad he came over to provide some distraction to all the silliness.

“Well, Ginny, you guys missed the announcement about the team flying competition. It’s been confirmed! Just want to make sure you’re aware of it. I expect all four of you to participate!” said Oliver excitedly. “So find yourselves a partner that has a solid broom who can really fly and you’ll win the competition, where you’ll be crowned the Hogwarts Broomstick Prince and Princess of the year!”

Still blushing, Harry glimpsed at Ginny, trying to establish eye contact with her. He suddenly found himself eager to ask her to be his partner. As he replayed the beautiful images of how he managed to catch her in the air at the Burrow even when he was blinded by pumpkin flesh, he was thinking that they could perform an exact stunt like that together and dazzle the crowd.

Besides the reason that Ginny was extremely talented, Harry wanted to ask her because unknowingly, he didn’t want her to be asked by other boys. Certainly, he wasn’t interested in the competition and winning it; the last thing he needed was to attract more attention to himself. But he felt that he must participate, for Ginny’s sake. He somehow forced himself to rationalize that his reasons for participating and wanting to be her partner were entirely and genuinely related to her safety and well-being. She might have an accident with other boys and they might hurt her in the process, because most of them were not as skilled as him in the air, he thought to himself smugly. He was almost convinced that his motives were completely innocent.

However, Ginny’s attention remained solidly on Oliver, as if her eyes were permanently anchored to his adam’s apple. It was now evident to Harry that she was purposely not looking or speaking to him. During the entire broom ride to Hogwarts earlier, he recalled she was especially quiet and emotionless. He would ask her questions, hoping to start an intelligent and interesting conversation, only to get countless one word grunts in return. Then he began to tell jokes, hoping to make her laugh, only to get silence in return.

“For the first time ever,” Oliver explained proudly. “Students who are not Quidditch players can be in the Quidditch fields and be part of the spotlight.

“I mentioned to Gin a few weeks ago about my plan for you four,” he continued smartly. “Ron, you can team with Hermione and Ginny can team with__”

“It’s really happening?” she cut in immediately before he could utter Harry’s name.

“Yep! Too bad I can’t be a part of it! I would love to compete if I could!”

“Who would you ask to be your partner… if you could?” asked Harry pryingly.

“Well, there’s a girl that’s very good and talented… I’m sure we can win if we team up. But who cares!” he shrugged his shoulders. “Why think about the impossible?”

Harry could feel his stomach flipping. He swore Oliver’s eyes just glimmered at Ginny.

“I think I understand why…” muttered Hermione vaguely, glancing at the giddy girls disgustingly at the table again.

“Uh?”

“Harry, you may not want to know this. But… I think…all the girls… they are after you because of the competition. They may all want you to be their partner.”

Ron chuckled mockingly, “Poor guy! Destined to be tormented by girls! First, a girl mentee from hell and now the entire school of girls is after your tail. Hmm… some of them are actually very pretty! Hey Harry, I’m jealous! Unless you’re willing to share some of them AARGH…”

Hermione had just kicked Ron angrily in the knee. He quickly silenced himself, noticing Ginny’s darkening face. Her eyes narrowed menacingly as they scanned the hall.

“Yeah, Harry. That mentee of yours looks like...” Oliver did not finish his sentence. Instead he just shook his head. “But I can’t blame her entirely for acting out on Filch. You weren’t here for the sorting ceremony… when McGonagall thought she was a boy and everyone laughed… It was pretty bad…

“Anyway, getting back to the competition thing, it’s only natural, Harry. Everyone wants to choose the best person to team with to win!” Oliver glanced around the hall and smirked. “The whole school knows you’re an awesome flyer. And you’re probably the only student with a Firebolt.

“Just promise me, Harry, to be gentle with all these girls, okay? We don’t want a trail of broken hearts along the staircase of the girls’ dormitory!” he grimaced as he slowly strolled away. “Goodnight guys!”

With Oliver no longer shielding him, Harry noticed all the girls’ heated eyes on him, smiling sweetly at him again, sending chills down his spine. Hoping to reestablish his connection with Ginny, he turned his eyes to her timidly, fantasizing and wishing that she could also gaze at him the way the other girls were. Sadly, she was now seemingly peering at Oliver’s disappearing footsteps, as if Harry was invisible. Oddly, she appeared to be very distracted. Disillusioned, he closed his weary eyes; he was wondering painfully why the one girl he really wanted to see was not looking at him.

“If I were a girl, I would want to team with Harry too,” Hermione nudged Ginny’s arm secretly, who was sitting numbly and pretended to not have heard her.

“What do you mean, Hermione?” Ron groaned jealously.

“AARGH!” Hermione shrieked, shaking her head and getting up hastily. “You’re so dense! I’m going up! I’m exhausted!”

“WAIT FOR ME!” screamed Ron.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Ginny wasn’t peering at Oliver at all; she was agonizingly watching the way the girls in the hall were drooling over her man, but couldn’t do anything about it, because as painful as it was, he was no longer her man for her to fight for. Ron was right, she thought to herself despairingly. Many of them were very pretty and would be perfect for Harry. From the corner of her eye, she spotted him, and his eyes were closed. He must be exhausted, she pondered despondently, having to complete the journey to the castle with his Firebolt and having to take her with him, doing all the steering by himself, while busily keeping her entertained with his attempts at comedy. While listening to his jokes as they were flying in the sunset, she had desperately hoped he would bring up the time he accidentally kissed her mum goodnight instead of her last year. That would definitely make her laugh. It worked when they were attacked in the secret passageway last year. At the time, even though he was seriously injured, all Harry cared about before falling unconscious was to see his girl smile and to hear her laugh again. Unfortunately, with his memory loss, he would have no recollection of those memorable events they shared together.

A band of annoying girlish giggles broke out from the Hufflepuff table, piercing through Ginny’s thoughts. Seeing them point at Harry furtively, she realized it was time for her to step aside, and let a new girl take her place. She quietly got up because she couldn’t take it anymore, and she didn’t want him to see her eyes which were beginning to water. As she marched out of the hall dejectedly, she gave Harry one last longing glance before she reached the doorway, only to find him sitting alone with his eyes still closed.

“Goodbye, my Harry,” she whispered through her defiant tears as she stormed away.

Harry’s eyes were closed because he was now concentrating on organizing all the right words in his head to ask Ginny to be his partner for the competition. He was determined to ask his girl and he was determined to do this right, as he was reminding himself to make sure his eyes must glow at her. Realizing that Ron and Hermione had stormed out of the hall, Ginny must be sitting alone with him now.

“Ginny, can I…” Harry opened his bright green eyes, only to find sadly that the one girl his eyes wanted to sparkle for had already disappeared.

Chapter 12 If Only You Know My Reasons

“Headmaster!” Oliver hurried over to Dumbledore, who was strolling in the fields, as he was assisting Hooch in one of the supplementary flying lessons for first year students.

“Mr. Wood. Nice to see you, young man! You should know I’m placing all my hopes on you. I expect all my students to be super flyers at the end of the year and nothing less!” Dumbledore smiled brightly at the children, currently trying to summon their brooms to pop into their paws. “But, feel no pressure, my dear boy! No pressure!”

“None indeed, Headmaster!” Oliver shouted over the barks of first year students as he retrieved a piece of parchment from his pocket. “I want to give this to you. It’s all the rules to the competition. I’ve finalized all of it, and I hope you can approve them!”

“Let me have a look,” Dumbledore unrolled the parchment and put on his spectacles, nodding along the way as he read the bold lines out-loud.

“Hmm… Wands allowed… music selection… deadline to sign up… date of competition… so close to exams…

“Criteria regarding safety, creativity and originality… that’s good…

“Head of the four houses will be judges… Headmaster is the fifth judge for the tiebreaker… I’m involved too?” he beamed.

“I can’t leave you out of this! You’re the one that endorsed this event. I can’t thank you more for liking my idea!”

“Well, the students do need something of a distraction given the doom and gloom and everything that’s happened these past few years,” Dumbledore continued scanning the rest of the parchment and started reading out-loud again, as Oliver watched him with the greatest excitement.

“Participants may team with someone from a different house or a different year… I guess there’s nothing wrong with that… I would be surprised to find a Slytherin student teaming up with any of the other three houses though…

“Only Hogwarts students may participate in the competition… Well, logically you wouldn’t expect teachers to participate too,” Dumbledore cracked a hearty laugh. “Imagine Professor McGonagall teaming up with Professor Snape and having Minerva catching our potions master in midair… What’s wrong, Mr. Wood? It is just a joke…”

“Erm… nothing,” he muttered distantly, turning his head to check on the children.

There was a moment of pause punctured by the shouting students as Dumbledore removed his spectacles and studied him attentively with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oliver, I’ve known you since you are a child. I watched you grow up to be a nice young man… and now with an earring and an engagement ring I might add… standing in front of me today, training the wizards and witches of tomorrow.

“I know what you’re thinking. It is indeed harsh, not allowing a natural competitor compete. You know, you are a true competitor at heart,” Dumbledore pulled out his wand and the words to the rule vanished.

“Headmaster__” Oliver’s mouth was hanging open.

“There’s really no purpose to this rule,” Dumbledore laughed mildly. “As you would expect, I don’t see Minerva and Severus suddenly teaming up anytime soon, or Professor Sprout pairing with one Ronald Weasley, or even Dobby for that matter…

“The only likely participant I can think of that’s not a student of Hogwarts is you. As you’re well aware, I’m a very liberal person, and I see nothing wrong with you participating. The competition is your idea anyway! Adding you in the mix might make it even more interesting, because all the students will aim to beat you! I guess I can take this list and have it posted?”

“Yes, and thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Oliver beamed gratefully.

Dumbledore smiled deeply, “Now that’s out of the way, may I ask who I would see you with in the competition?”

“I want to ask Ginny Weasley.”

Dumbledore’s eager smile fainted abruptly.

“She’s an awesome flyer! With her on my side, we’ll have a great chance of winning, if she isn’t taken already.”

“What about your back, Oliver?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he replied evasively, shifting his eyes to the children.

“OH NO!! I hope Gin doesn’t team with Harry! I can’t believe I told her to team with Harry!” Oliver suddenly shouted frantically. “He has a Firebolt! With her by his side, they’ll be unbeatable! I better ask her quick! Oh, I better get back to the lessons! I forgot about the children! Thanks, Headmaster!”

As Dumbledore watched Oliver galloping back to the crowds of noisy children, who were still struggling with their brooms, a grave sense of regret swept over him.

“Can I once again blame this blunder on old age?” he sighed uneasily, shaking his head. From afar, he spotted Sam amongst the children, and she appeared to be doing very poorly and giving Oliver a hard time.

“One thing is for certain, Miss Ryan," he muttered tiredly. "Your mentor will surely destroy the remains of my office when he finds out about this...”

******

“Bye, Harry. Same time same place next week?” Sam chirped energetically as Harry followed her wearily, the two of them entering the common room.

With his feet dragging themselves to move, Harry let out some kind of tired grunt that was barely audible. From the sound of it, it was unclear whether it was a word.

“Cupcake?” she suddenly squealed sharply and came to a screeching halt as he almost tumbled into her slight frame absentmindedly. She hastily retrieved a round pink metal container from her school bag and pushed it into his hand, but he appeared too drained to care what she was doing.

“Okay. See you,” Sam hopped upstairs, apparently interpreting Harry’s earlier grunt to mean a yes.

As Harry trudged inside drearily, he spotted Hermione and Ron lounging by the fireplace, both sporting their unique derisive smirks, while Ginny was tending to her jigsaw puzzle, seemingly in full concentration. Seeing Ginny somehow lifted his spirits, even though she didn’t acknowledge him because her eyes were solidly locked on the table. He quickly remembered that he still hadn’t asked her to be his partner.

“How was your first meeting?” asked Ron sarcastically, trying to look serious.

“Did she snap her fingers at you… LIKE THIS?” Hermione burst out laughing and snapped her fingers at his face. Harry groaned in frustration, trying to suppress the urge to throw the metal container at her.

“No, she was docile, except that mouth of hers, because I could hardly get a word in,” he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and crashed to the chair across Ginny, trying fruitlessly to establish eye contact with her again.

“Correction! I absolutely did not get one single word in!

“The idea of having to meet with her once a week…” he sighed in a rather exaggerated manner, hoping it would attract Ginny’s attention, but she maintained her focus on the puzzle. “McGonagall tells me I’m supposed to share my experiences with her, whatever that means! But how can I when she’s the one doing all the blabbing! She’s a real chatterbox!”

“Like this pink box?” Ron pointed at it and whistled teasingly.

Hermione suddenly got up and winked at Ron, who nodded and rose to his feet.

“Where’re you two going?” asked Ginny, finally ungluing her eyes from the table.

“Oh, love to stay and chat, but we’re heading to the library! I agreed to tutor your brother,” replied Hermione deceptively as both quickly slipped out before Ginny could object, leaving her alone with Harry.

“And do you know what she was talking about the entire meeting?” Harry moaned to Ginny, opening the container curiously.

“No,” she replied in a disinteresting tone, turning her focus to the table again.

“Boys!” he was hoping this would elicit some kind of reaction from her. At this point, he would settle for anything from her, a glare, a sneer, even a smack in the face like the one she gave him back at the Burrow, but she just kept her eyes on the table.

“Cupcake?”

“What did you call me?” she zapped, her heart suddenly fluttering uncontrollably.

“No… I mean… do you want… a cupcake?” he retrieved one from the box and handed it to her nervously.

“Oh… I’m not hungry,” she replied guiltily, feeling bad for snapping at him and at the same time, fuming inside for misunderstanding his intentions and getting her hopes up.

There was a moment of awkward pause, with Harry’s hesitant arm outstretched, holding the cake and not knowing what to do with it, while Ginny was trying helplessly to lower her heart pressure.

Harry took a deep breath, gathered up his courage, and deliberately graced her left hand boldly as he set the cake next to it, “Ginny, as you’re well aware of, I haven’t been… you know… with someone before.”

Ginny’s left hand swam mechanically to the edge of the table to escape his touch and she stationed her palm solidly on the corner.

“But that Sam just kept on badgering me…” he continued, blushing heavily now, “asking me… if I… you know…

“Of course I said it’s none of her business…

“And then she goes on and on, telling me all kinds of mushy things about how to impress some guy in school she has a crush on… asking me for my opinion if she should do this or that… or that I even care…

“But I have no idea… what to do… I haven’t been with anyone before…”

Ginny couldn’t help but chuckled mockingly as she closed her grip at the edge of the table, trying to suppress the furious little voice that was sounding cynically in her head.

“How can you say you haven’t been in love before? Do you need evidence? My heart’s broken because of you. I cry myself to sleep because of you… It can’t be more clear than that… You were in love once before. You loved me. You did love me before… At least I thought you did…

”But here I am sitting with you and you’re telling me you haven’t loved anyone before… and I still can’t explain to you that you’re wrong... What a fool… you and me… the two biggest fools in the world…”

“If I were to know about it, wouldn’t I be… like… with someone by now?” Harry muttered carefully, seemingly testing the waters and glancing at her boyishly, still trying to re-ignite the connection she stopped granting him since her birthday, unaware that her left hand was gripping the table tighter and tighter with his every foolish word.

“This is the café you ran into Oliver?” he asked flatly, poking his finger at the cake and slowly pushing it towards her left hand, using it as a decoy so he could grace her hand again.

Ginny stopped chuckling and nodded, straightening her face without looking at him.

Seeing Oliver’s gift reminded Harry of his gift to her.

“Erm… did you like… what I gave you for your birthday?”

“Yeah, thanks. It’s cool,” she had packed his gift with her to Hogwarts but to this day, she still hadn’t opened the pale blue box.

Excited with his progress at yanking more words out of her lips, he daringly ventured further, at the same time concentrating on maneuvering the cake towards her, “I’m glad you like it. Hmm… maybe one night… if you’re in the mood… we can use it__”

Ginny suddenly let out a violent hacking cough and cleared her throat severely. She startled him so much he abruptly recoiled his hand from the table. Even though he was disillusioned, he didn’t want to give up. He wanted to try again. He must ask her to be his partner, and his intention was to cheer her up by first launching a variety of compliments at her, then he would proceed to pop his question about the competition.

“I really appreciate you keeping me company like this.”

“Harry, we use to do so much more than just keep each other company…”

“And always giving me your ear to my problems.”

“I gave you my heart too, but you just… So childish of me… I think I’m the only one in this world…”

“Your mum told me it was your idea to invite me over this past summer. I just want… to thank you, Ginny… for…”

“Why so well-mannered with me, Harry? You don’t have to say thank you to me, after everything we’ve been through. I mean more to you than that… After all, I thought we’re past the thank you stage...”

“Thank you for… always looking out for me…”

“I’ll do anything for you. I will give you my all. I’ll sacrifice everything for you, even though you…”

“You’re the best!” Harry garbled, hoping he would get a hearty cheer out of her, just like Oliver always managed to do. But her expressions just became gloomier as her palm continued to grip tightly at the corner.

Harry gazed at her somberness and muttered faintly, disheartened that he continued to fail in making her laugh, “Why so quiet, Ginny? Is something… bothering you?

“Wait a minute! I recognize that morbid look! Ron’s like that too when he talks about Hermione. Like brother like sister… Are you thinking about… a special someone too?” he glanced miserably at the pile of puzzle pieces.

A piece slipped out of Ginny’s hand and floated to the floor. Harry immediately bent down and retrieved it.

“Ouch!” he deliberately banged his head against the table, but Ginny remained motionless.

Instead of putting it back into the pile, he kept it in his hand, seemingly hoping she would reach for it.

“Is it… Oliver?” he mumbled palely as he hesitantly extended his filled fist, just like the way with the cake earlier. But Ginny just grinned hollowly and reached for another piece in the pile.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked longingly.

It was the last straw for her. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“I am laughing at you, for being so stupid… still haven’t figured out you’re the one I am thinking of!”

She wanted to scream and explode, and she wanted to take the half completed puzzle and smash it.

”We look perfect together. Everyone thinks so… Hermione… mum… Oliver… I think so too… Yet we are not…”

The voice in her head was shrieking dizzyingly and she could almost throw up.

”You apologize for all the wrong reasons… and you mistake my tears for something else…”

She was gripping the table so hard her fingers were about to melt it apart.

”If only you understand my reluctance, Harry… for not letting myself be moved by you… touched by you…”

She was one second away from lunging at him with all her weight, had it not for her manic left hand that was anchored to the table, refusing to let go and holding her back.

”Who could believe I can harbor such deep feelings for you but all I’m willing to give you is a blank friendly face… the impressions of a friend, nothing more… because you are… you’re candy for my eyes… so heartfelt to look at… but…

”At the same time, so excruciatingly painful too…

”I already know my reasons for locking you out…

”Yet I still can’t stop myself from dreaming recklessly on too many nights… about you…

”STOP BEING SO NICE TO ME…

“STOP SPARKLING THOSE GREEN STARS OF YOURS AT ME…

“PLEASE… JUST LEAVE ME ALONE…

“JUST GO AWAY…

“Please…”

No words could describe Harry’s feelings right now. His helpless and discouraged face spoke volumes, but Ginny was too tormented with her thoughts to notice. In his mind, he was blaming himself miserably, because once again, not only did he failed to cheer her up, this time he actually managed to upset her even more, judging by her tortured expressions.

Harry swallowed his elusive question and slowly trudged lingeringly to the staircase, feeling that it was the best thing for him to do.

“Bye, Ginny.”

He had forgotten to give her back the puzzle that was still in his fist.

Chapter 13 Five Pairs Of Eyes…

“What the…” Ginny rubbed the back of the head and turned around, at the same time trying to keep the incomplete puzzle together with one hand.

“Sorry!” Sam zipped towards Ginny in the girls’ dormitory. “I didn’t mean to hit you with it!”

Spotting a paper plane on the floor, Ginny immediately reached for it, forgetting about the puzzle in her clutches that inadvertently split into two whole pieces during her struggle, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She quickly unfolded it, seemingly searching for something. But all she saw were messy scribbles of class notes, apparently a lesson from Potions, and many shocking and unflattering sketches of what looked like to be Snape. She couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the obscene drawings, even though seeing the plane reminded her of her writing that painful story and tossing it to the lake in the form of a paper plane last year, screaming for Harry to come back to her.

“Excuse me…” Sam peered at her curiously with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, here you go, Miss Ryan,” she closed her jaw, folded the paper and handed it back to her immediately, because the unflattering images were simply revolting. “Cool drawings, I think! Who would have known Snape is into those kinds of… activities!”

“I guess you know my name from that wretched opening feast! That dumb Filch!” she cursed and snatched the plane.

“Please call me Sam!”

“I’m Ginny. Sam, go easy on your mentor, okay?” Ginny could hear herself command authoritatively at the pale girl. Seeing Sam and realizing she was capable of drawing such horrendous pictures, she suddenly felt the need to defend Harry, remembering how exhausted he was after the first mentor session. She was afraid this girl would destroy him in no time.

With each word stronger than the last, Ginny found herself raising her voice threateningly, forgetting she was speaking to a frail little first year girl, “He’s my friend and a very nice guy! I don’t want you tormenting him, or giving him a hard time, because You.Will.Answer.To.Me!”

“Harry? He’s cool! I like him! He’s such a good listener!” she chirped happily, much to Ginny’s surprise.

“And I think he’s so adorably cute! Don’t you find?” she bent down to examine the broken puzzle and started to scoop up the loose pieces to one pile.

Ginny was blinking very quickly, her cheeks quickly deflating as all the angry air just fizzled out. She had been expecting some type of fiery wrath from Sam, similar to what she did to Filch that day. Even though Sam was much smaller, Ginny had readily herself for some kind of physical confrontation, as a precaution.

Suddenly, Sam bolted up and clenched her teeth aggressively, her cheeks quickly firing up, “It’s his best friend, that redhead git I__

“Oh, wait!” she swallowed her nasty tongue, appearing somewhat embarrassed. “The git’s your brother, isn’t he? Erm… I almost forgot. Never mind! Forget what I said.

“Goodness! I so hate Potions! Keep the plane, Ginny! I don’t want anything to do with that lousy Snape. Don’t worry about Harry! I won’t hurt him with my feathers! See ya!” Sam babbled in one breath, buried the plane into Ginny’s clutches and hopped away before Ginny could respond. She now understood why Harry called her a chatterbox.

“Why did she call my brother… a git?” Ginny grimaced blankly, bending down to gather her broken puzzle.

****

“Ginny, can you be… mine… No, I mean… my…”

He shook his head and breathed frustratingly, again drilling himself with his inflexible instructions, “Okay, Potter! Start over.

“Smile without showing teeth,” he told himself, flattening his hair.

“Ginny, I want to be…your… partner… THERE! That wasn’t so hard!”

Staring at the reflection of himself in the shower in disbelief, Harry couldn’t fathom what possessed him to do what he was doing right now. He found himself nervously rehearsing his question to pop at Ginny tomorrow, and at the same time, concerned about the appearance of his hair for the first time. An hour had already been spent, but both his tongue and hair refused to listen to his commands; both just couldn’t stay in place.

He sheepishly wiped the mist off the mirror, wondering why he was acting so silly lately when it came to Ginny, like accidentally walking away with a piece of her puzzle, and then not wanting to give it back to her after he discovered it in his palm. It was impossible, according to him, that he actually wanted her to have a piece missing, knowing she would go ballistic, since she was so obsessed with it. He was not convinced he did it because it had anything to do with one Oliver Wood, although he kept asking himself why his stomach would always start flipping when he would see them together and Ginny would always seem to have such a swell time with him.

Harry knew he had always admired Ginny, her bravery, toughness, her special talents, and genuine kindheartedness, plus a very good cook, but never in that special way. She was, after all, his best friend’s little sister.

However, as he continued to stare at the reflection of himself in the shower, his eyes were screaming at him to wake up. He could not deny seeing the intensity behind them when he was thinking about her, her fiery red hair, penetrating brown eyes, and strawberry lips. In fact, she was always in his mind for all kinds of reasons lately. Both his cheeks were radiant pink with emotions in the misty mirror now. Seeing them so worked up, he smiled deeply, because he recalled how Ginny smacked him across the face and he wasn’t even angry with her.

He remembered the first night when he arrived at the Burrow and he was in her room. She invited him to sit with her even though she was clearly busy making space for Hermione. He loved being there, as if all the anguish would vanish when he was there with her. That night, she made him feel better after receiving Dumbledore’s letter about him selected as mentor.

On her birthday, he had been jealous of Oliver and the attention she granted him. However, he was happy, because at the end, even though it was only her forehead, it was him that got to kiss her for more than ten seconds, thanks to the magic motion detector. It felt so wonderful he didn’t want to pull away.

However, what helped Harry confirm his feelings and what changed everything when it came to Ginny was what happened the day before arriving to Hogwarts, when they had lunch together at the Burrow. He had cried so hard earlier and felt so lonely, cold, and hopeless, when he surrendered to his inner demons after uncovering Sirius’ mirror, but Ginny was there for him in her special way afterwards. When he couldn’t cry anymore, that was when she called him to come downstairs for lunch, as if she purposely timed it to the minute when he was ready to come down.

No words were exchanged between them the entire time, from the first drop of soup to the last fork that was deposited into the running sink. But Harry recorded all the details of their togetherness in his mind, every single minute and every single second of it, once he sat down at the table and spotted all the food she prepared for him. It was enough to feed a Quidditch team. He believed he would have no appetite to eat after all the crying but the aroma from her masterpieces was too hard to resist.

Harry remembered how she seemingly adapted to his sadness by remaining very quiet herself, as if she knew that he was unable to speak because of the tears clogged in his throat. He was thankful to her sense of calm, because even a single utter of a word from him would unleash all his pent-up tears, those of which he only allowed to come out at night in his sleep.

Ginny might have been quiet, but Harry recalled that it was her actions that spoke volumes to him and moved him. A smile appeared across his face as the images of a very caring Ginny were playing in his mind. She was in her red apron, giving him continuous helpings of hot soup and constantly checking his bowl mindfully to make sure it was full. She must have known instinctively that the soup was the medicine he really needed at the time, because she didn’t ask him if he wanted the third and fourth helpings; she just continued to pour it for him, and it was exactly what he needed.

He had never experienced the type of special care and sensitivity from anyone before. It was as if she knew he was in pain and he needed her help. It was only chicken soup, but the soup recharged him. He felt warm again. She revived and nurtured his spirits again. She was his silent power of strength at that moment.

It may be just another lunch for her but in his eyes, every little thing she did meant so much to him. That day, she unknowingly repaired him and glued him back to his solid form, the noodles of spaghetti weaving him back together, the meatballs and sandwiches restoring his energy, and her coconut cream cake sweetening his insides. He forgot to thank her for her efforts. From now on, he would never take things for granted, especially when it came to her.

Harry was a shadow of his former self after the death of Sirius, coupled with the argument he had with Dumbledore and the discovery of the prophecy. Both Sirius and Dumbledore were his sources of strength and meaning, and he felt he had lost them both. However, after the tenderly experience with Ginny, he realized he had to survive and be strong. He had to fight on, for his friends, the Weasley family, and most importantly, for Ginny. He was determined to not let her down, because after that day, her efforts told him he was important enough for her to care for. She restored his meaning again. He no longer felt lonely.

Mrs. Weasley told him it was Ginny’s idea to invite him to the Burrow, because she felt it would be better for him to be around friendly faces. After the loss of Sirius, he thought it was one less person in his limited pool of people to care about him. He never figured Ginny would be such an important person in his pool.

No longer afraid to see his reflection in its cloudless form, he wiped the mist off the mirror again. What used to be the blemishes of anguish from Sirius’ death had finally faded, thanks to Ginny. He would be eternally indebted to her, for being there, when he needed most.

“Thank you, Ginny Weasley...

“I love you...”

****

It was a very disorderly morning and the Great Hall was buzzing with excited students who had just reviewed Oliver’s finalized posting about the flying competition that breakfast and classes became secondary. Harry was prepping himself mentally. He was determined to ask Ginny first thing in the morning no matter what happened. However, for some reason, she still hadn’t come down yet. Sitting depressingly, he kept glancing at the empty spot next to Hermione, the seat she usually took when she was here. He scanned across the hall and his eyes parked themselves at the entrance; they were eagerly watching and waiting for her arrival.

“Ron, it’s just… too close to exams dates! How can I study AND participate?” protested Hermione.

“Who cares? It’s the first time ever event! Right, Harry?”

“Uh?”

“Harry, what’s the matter?” asked Hermione worriedly.

“Do you know… erm… where’s…” he muttered sheepishly, pulling his eyes down and trying to sound as casual as possible, but his blushing could not escape Hermione’s exploring eyes.

“Oh, her? She said she’ll come down very soon,” she replied coyly. “Why? Is there something you want to ask her?”

Suddenly, from the corner of Harry’s eyes, he spotted Oliver rushing by and running towards the entrance. He immediately jolted his head up and saw Ginny standing by the entrance, slowly making her way in, and Oliver appeared to be bolting to her direction. A nasty feeling erupted in his mind for some reason and a voice in his head was yelling at him to not let Oliver reach his destination. But as soon as Harry got up, he noticed Oliver abruptly coming to a screeching halt before he was able to reach Ginny.

“Mr. Wood, can you explain again what you call that move that allows you to turn upside down in the air?” Harry could hear Sam’s sharp voice ricocheting through the hall. It appeared his mentee had just intercepted Oliver’s path.

Seizing the opportunity, he immediately sprinted towards Ginny, while at the same time, reminding himself to make sure his eyes must sparkle at her.

“Harry? Why are you running?” Hermione yelled after his heated footsteps, but as soon as she noticed where he was heading to, she figured out what was going on. But she could also spot a very agitated Oliver, who appeared to be trying to get Sam out of his way. For some reason, she had her two hands on his belly, seemingly pushing him back. A nasty feeling emerged in her head as she too, could insightfully sense that their struggle had something to do with Ginny standing by the entrance.

Unfortunately, Harry also had to come to a screeching halt when a hand from the Gryffindor table grabbed his arm. It was Ingrid Lannar.

“Harry, do you remember me? I’m Ingrid. Remember at the opening feast where I was ahead of you in the mentor thing and…” Harry could hear her choppy babbles but he wasn’t paying any attention to any of her words.

Seeing Harry trapped and noticing Sam was losing her battle with Oliver, Hermione instinctively stormed towards Harry to lend him a hand and speed him along.

“Hermione? Why are you running?” Ron shouted after her heated footsteps, but she was too preoccupied with Harry to answer.

“Lannar, you’re too tall for Harry!” Hermione screeched protectively. She immediately freed Harry’s arm and pulled him along, hoping she could be a shield against other potential girls along the way.

“Oliver, what’re you doing?” Harry could suddenly hear Sam’s protests getting louder and louder behind him. As he turned his head to look, he spotted Oliver was speeding towards them, frantically holding Sam in his arms like a doll and quickly passing them by. However, Sam seemed like she was ready to claw his eyes out.

Judging from the bizarre look on Ginny’s face, it was evident she didn’t know what to make of this, as the four of them were madly rushing towards her in the middle of morning. Hermione was grabbing at Harry’s arm and both were panting when they stopped, while Oliver was still clutching Sam, who had since stopped fighting off his arms. Instead, her eyes were interestingly darting between Harry and Ginny.

“Ginny, I want you to be my partner for the competition!” said Oliver and Harry at the same time.

“What’s going on? What’s all the running about? Did I miss the Hogwarts morning marathon?” Ron marched towards them, oblivious to the five pairs of eyes that were all desperately looking for refuge.

Chapter 14 Destined Peoples?

“What’s going on? Why all the long faces?” Ron pressed tactlessly into their balloon of silence, a silence that was so suffocating because it was surrounded by a fog of noisy chatter echoing from the hall that no longer mattered.

Ginny was blinking very quickly, her mind drifting into deep space because she actually wanted to be there. In fact, she wanted to be anywhere but here at this juncture, because she was completely unprepared for anything like this, especially in the morning with an empty stomach. Desperately trying to keep her jaw from flipping over and her eyeballs from dislocating off their sockets, she took a few steps back, putting some distance between her and the group, hoping the widening gap could blur her shocked expressions she was dreadfully trying to suppress.

She had sensed the whole time that Harry might ask her, because he was always around her and acting very strangely ever since he found out about the event, but the Harry she always knew was a boy that was always shy with his feelings and not very good at expressing them. She never expected he would do it so boldly, in front of friends and his mentee, who were all anxiously waiting for her answer, judging from the hunger in their eyes.

It was as if it wasn’t embarrassing enough having to deal with Harry in front of Hermione, Ron, Oliver, and the brash girl, Sam; she was certainly not expecting to have to answer to Oliver, and having to do it in front of Harry as well. After all, Oliver wasn’t a student. He was a teacher’s assistant and he had always insisted from the beginning that she teamed with Harry. It never occurred to her he would ask her, and definitely not in this fashion.

“Oliver, what about me?” Sam suddenly hooted in his arms and winked at him. “I thought you asked me to be your partner for the competition!”

Everyone’s eyes immediately zoomed onto the two of them; it was clear this additional information was too much for the group to digest. They were all studying Oliver and trying to picture a big strapping guy like him pairing with a tiny eleven year old girl with a buzz cut and a bad attitude. As modestly as they could, Ginny and Hermione couldn’t help but snickered at the silly and unbelievable images. Ginny was glad she provided a brief distraction to the silence, because she was no longer at the center of their view.

Oliver had since forgotten he was still holding Sam rather tightly in his arms, and he immediately rolled her off his grips, hoping no one would believe her childish accusations. Because she had been yapping and blocking his way earlier, he decided holding her hostage was the only way to restrain her.

“I NEVER ASKED YOU!” Oliver complained in disbelief, seriously wanting to kick himself for forgetting to close his hands over her mouth.

“Oliver, you’re not a student of Hogwarts. How can you…?” Hermione cleared her throat, squishing her voice to sound as calm as possible.

“Yeah, Mister Wood!” Sam chirped sarcastically, her eyes dancing across the group, finally stationing themselves sympathetically at Harry’s hollow stare.

“Dumbledore says he’s okay with it! It’s not just students__”

“DUMBLEDORE?” Harry roared so loudly the entire hall of people was glaring emptily at their direction. At this point, he could not be angrier with the Hogwarts headmaster.

After waiting for the echoes from Harry’s voice to subside, Ron inserted confusedly as he kept a sympathetic eye on Harry, “Let me get this straight. Oliver… you want to… ask… my little sister… to be partner?”

“Oliver, I love your…” Ginny muttered but her breath froze because the entire group except Oliver just gaped at her disapprovingly. They had believed she had just announced her decision to choose him.

“No… I mean… Oliver… I love your idea… but I was… I…

“I… I was intending to be… only a spectator…” Ginny turned her head down and mumbled evasively, hoping to delay her need to answer their requests.

“Come on, Ginny!” he pleaded. “It’s the perfect opportunity to showcase your talents in the air… to come out of your shell… and be in the spotlight! You’re so good! I saw the way you flew with Harry at the Burrow__”

“That’s right! Ginny flew with Harry! You said it! That’s why Harry should match with Ginny!” Hermione cut in smartly.

Ginny crossed her arms defiantly and shot Hermione a rebellious glare. She was fed up with her for constantly putting them together and for always uttering their names in the same sentence simultaneously, even though she had repeatedly asked her not to do so. Ready to tear her bushy hair off, she could not forget Hermione’s tactics the day the Knight Bus broke down and her nagging at Lupin annoyingly, the result of which Ginny ended up having to fly with Harry. She swore that if she would hear her say their names together like that one more time, she would skin her alive.

“I think I’ll skip breakfast,” Ginny swallowed her fire and ran for her class. Although she was clearly aware she hadn’t resolved the dilemma, she had to escape; she didn’t want Harry and Oliver to witness her anger at Hermione and believing mistakenly that she was agitated over the two of them.

“Ginny, wait for me!” Hermione howled after her, unaware Ginny’s pressure valve was about to explode because of her and not because of Harry and Oliver.

“I better go too,” Oliver dashed away uncomfortably, sounding somewhat guilty and defeated.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry groaned at a very bewildered Ron and stormed to the opposite direction.

“Harry!” Sam chased and grabbed his arm.

“I said I don’t want to__” he snapped fiercely, trying to brush her off, but she refused to let him go.

“No, listen Harry! I just realized something! I think you should stop your friend Hermione!”

“What?”

“Just listen to me! Get her off Ginny’s back! NOW! You must listen to me! There’s no time!” she bellowed urgently, shaking his arm. It was the first time Harry had seen her so serious.

“GO!” she suddenly shoved him forward and Harry found himself almost tripping over his feet.

He froze and turned back awkwardly, his anger seemingly evaporated somewhat, “Listen, Sam… thanks, I think… you know… what you did to Oliver… that was… brave… to stand in front of a speeding freight train… for whatever reasons you had…”

Harry could see Sam was pretending to not understand what he was talking about, even though he noticed a glimmer of appreciation in her gray eyes. It was the same glimmer she had on the first day they met at the feast, when he agreed to be her mentor, except this time it was coupled with a vividly pressurized expression on her face.

“Just go!” she lunged at him. “There’s no time!”

Harry was wandering aimlessly in the school halls, mindlessly following Sam’s order to search for Hermione in between his classes, but for some strange reason he couldn’t locate both her and Ginny. He didn’t understand why Sam sent him to this goose chase. Admittedly, he wasn’t trying very hard to locate them. After all, he knew what Hermione must be doing now. Being Harry’s long time loyal friend and being the smart girl that she was, she must be trying to convince Ginny to choose Harry and not Oliver.

After what happened this morning, he was certain Hermione was now aware of his feelings for Ginny. At the Burrow, he still remembered how she was nudging him to go to Ginny’s room, asking him to give her back her broom after that Quidditch game. On the day the Knight Bus broke down, Hermione forced Lupin to tell Ginny to ride with Harry, and then teasing Ginny about having to wrap her arms around him before taking off in roaring laughter. He could now see how obvious her efforts were in trying to put them together and he smiled satisfyingly because he realized she was clearly on his side, favoring him with Ginny. Knowing she was a great communicator, he was hoping she could help his cause.

“Hermione!” Harry, anxiously waiting for the good news, finally saw her elusive tail by the end of the school day, but she zoomed away and hid her face with her books, dashing awkwardly into the common room when she heard him.

“What’s wrong?” an ominous feeling was starting to engulf Harry.

“Please don’t be mad! Let me explain!” she pulled her books away from her face hesitantly. Harry noticed her eyes were slightly puffy.

“I thought I could knock some sense into her, but…”

Harry leaned closer to her, eager to absorb every word that was coming out of her shaky lips.

“I said to her it’s totally a mistake teaming with Oliver because…

“Because I said he… competes like a madman! He’ll destroy her in no time because all he cares about is winning!

“Harry, you should know!” she started to pace around the common room in a directionless manner, and Harry reluctantly had to follow her confused steps. “He dragged you and her twin brothers out before sunrise to practice regardless of the weather when he was captain!

“So I reminded her of this, that Oliver would do the same horrible thing to her, and she would have to spend a lot of time practicing, waking up before sunrise.

“I was hoping this would discourage her, because she’s not a morning person, unlike me…

“But she was actually encouraged by all this… Said it would give her an opportunity to work off her excess energy… lose a few pounds… blah blah blah… that with Oliver on her back, she will have no excuse not to exercise…”

“He better not be on her back!” Harry halted his steps and growled, his hands in balls of fists.

“Harry, I’m serious! I know this is just her excuse. She just wants to keep herself occupied and tire herself beyond repair so she can collapse into her bed and fall asleep at night.”

“Ginny can’t sleep at night? Did she tell you why?” asked Harry worriedly.

“Erm… you know… she puts a lot of pressure on herself… to do well in school,” she stopped pacing and muttered evasively.

“So… I got desperate! I went on saying that her mother would definitely not allow her to team with Oliver.

“I brought up the age thing… and Mrs. Weasley hating his earring…

“Plus, Oliver was out of our lives for a few years. Who knows what has become of him… maybe he’s no longer the same wholesome nice boy Oliver we remembered…

“But she went ballistic on me… saying she doesn’t have to answer to her mother…” Hermione’s face was contorting grimly, “that she’s tired of being the good little girl… and…

“She started defending Oliver aggressively… that we misunderstand him… that he also has issues…” Hermione abruptly stopped because she noticed Harry’s downcast expressions creeping across his face.

“Anyway, I changed topics… and talked about you instead,” Hermione suddenly buried her hand in Harry’s hair and gazed longingly at his forehead, as if she wanted to crack open his skull and insert something inside but couldn’t.

“I guess I should not have brought up… certain things…” she murmured apologetically, pulling away hopelessly.

“What is it?”

“Never mind! I swear I said all the good things about you… and her… and the two of you together… but I think… I…

“She screamed at me like never before… how it is none of my business who she chooses…

“There are things that can’t be pushed too hard. I realize it now! I guess I want to see you two together so bad I might have… I…

“Pushed her over the edge… and all the way to the other end…” her eyes darted darkly to a piece of parchment dangling by the posting board.

Harry immediately bolted to the list. He was ready to howl and scream at what was in front of his blazing eyes. On top of the list as candidate number one was Ginny’s name, carved deeply in the parchment, and in the same angry cursive handwriting, was Oliver’s name, written next to hers. To add insult to injury, there was a very big plus sign in the middle.

“Just because they’re partners doesn’t mean they’re… you know… It’s only a stupid competition…” Hermione pleaded to him.

“Ginny Weasley + Oliver Wood!” he snarled angrily. Somehow, the plus sign was flickering brightly in his eyes, as if it was mocking him, telling him it would be fitting now if he were to draw a heart shape around their names.

“What a turn of events… Who would have figured this would happen… What a long day…”

“It’s all Dumbledore’s fault!” Harry tore the posting apart and tossed it onto the ground.

“Harry, please don’t give up…” Hermione muttered helplessly to his disappearing footsteps.

Chapter 15 Silent Cries From Afar… His Secret Admirer

“Hermione, look at all the publicity for the Hogwarts Team Flying Competition!” Ron flipped open the newspaper, effectively shielding him from her wicked signals to him to quit chatting about it, because Harry’s footsteps were coming closer.

“Spectators are welcome to support the students and take part in this first time ever event by purchasing tickets at Hogsmeade’s participating locations. Be mindful that audience seating is limited and in very high demand according to many Hogsmeade barkeepers, therefore it is advisable to purchase tickets early…” he started reading the paper out loud.

“Let’s see…” he continued excitedly, skipping to another article. “It will be a spectacular showcase of both athleticism and artistry as students will pair up and master the airs with their brooms in a mesmerizing background of explosive music and an assortment of magic charms they will perform under the powerful spotlight that will certainly light up the dark skies…”

“Ahhem!”

“The idea originated from Mr. Oliver Wood, former member of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team and now teacher’s assistant of Hogwarts… The cause of all the fanfare and excitement is because of the fact that highlighting the group of competitors is none other than Wood himself. A former student of Hogwarts, Wood is scheduled to match his skills against the students of today and he will close the show by being the final competitor of the evening…”

“AHHEM!”

“We’ll see how a twenty year old body will match up with the younger ones. Rumor has it that he is hampered with a lingering back injury. Known for his relentless competitive spirits, however, it will be a treat for his fans who want to relive the power and dominant display of the former keeper in the Quidditch fields again…

“Sources say he is teaming up with one student named__

“AARGH!” the newspaper abruptly ripped apart at the seams because Hermione had just hurled an apple at him and it went through the paper and smacked him in the face. Rubbing his nose sheepishly, he finally caught her piercing glare darting between him and Harry, who was slouching listlessly by the fireplace.

“Sorry,” Ron murmured. “I didn’t know he’s here.”

During the past few weeks, Harry had tried to stay invisible as much as possible, not wanting to have anything to do with the competition, even though he had been constantly stopped by girls who offered to team with him up to the very last minute, with most of them extremely pretty according to Ron’s tactless assessments. Harry was glad the sign up deadline finally passed, because rejecting girls was definitely not his favorite pass time. He could sense their resentment and disgust, but there would be no compromise, because he always knew from the bottom of his heart that he would pair with no one except Ginny. Sadly, she had chosen Oliver instead of him.

Now that the deadline had passed, all the girls had since stopped breathing over him, and things were starting to get back to normal except Ron and Ginny. Ron had desperately wanted to participate but Hermione said the competition would disrupt her preparations for the December exams, even though they would be held around Christmas and the competition date was in early December. To add to Ron’s disillusionment, she also forbade him from asking other girls. Therefore, all he could do was talk about the competition endlessly.

Ginny was the only participant amongst the four of them. Logically, with Oliver’s unsurprisingly gruesome training regimen, she would have to spend all of her time in the fields with him when she didn’t have class. Since she was a fifth year, Harry would not even get a chance to see her during his classes. Nowadays, the seat next to Hermione, the one she usually took when they ate in the hall, would also be conspicuously empty.

The only time Harry could catch a glimpse of Ginny was by spying on her when she was training with Oliver. When Sam mentioned to him Oliver was giving her a hard time because of her poor flying techniques, Harry offered to help his mentee. He purposely chose to help her in the early sunrise, so it would let him catch an occasional display of Ginny’s brilliance in the fields at the same time. Judging from Sam’s practice sessions so far, he thought she wasn’t that terrible at flying; he was contemplating whether Oliver was deliberately penalizing her for what happened at the hall that breakfast, and her blocking his way. He felt bad for her.

The date of the competition was drawing closer and closer, but Harry was trying to appear as unaffected as ever. However, every time he saw Ginny leaving the common room with her broomstick, his insides would claw at him, knowing that once again, she was getting together with Oliver to practice.

The weather was surprisingly balmy for a December, making Harry forget that today was the eve of the flying competition. Sitting with Sam in the common room in the early evening, they were holding one of their weekly mentor meetings. For some reason, Sam insisted on having the meeting in the common room instead of McGonagall’s stuffy classroom. As usual, she was mindlessly babbling to her mentor about her dream boy and her silly crush when…

“Sam, your hair’s longer now,” Harry smiled melodiously. “I think you look cute with long hair. That buzz cut was… freaky. Maybe that thick boy of yours you keep telling me about will notice you now.”

Sam was taken back by his unexpected compliment. It was the first time Harry responded to her silly chatter and uttering her name with a flattering remark in the same breath. It was also the first time he was able to silence her.

“Sam, are you okay?” Harry studied her pale face that was quickly reddening, noticing a glimmer in her eye. “Are those bags under your eyes?”

“Oh, it’s nothing!” she turned away and laughed like a hyena.

“Of all people, you’re the last one to criticize other people’s eyes! You’re the one with four eyes!” she snapped at him crossly, hoping he would stop being so nice to her. But he continued to smile at her; after so many meetings and practice sessions with her, her endless insults became part of his habits. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy Sam’s company. Her unpredictable behavior was intriguing and her insults filled the gaping hole from the emptiness that was left behind by Ginny.

Suddenly, there were sounds of hurried footsteps coming from the staircase. Harry had since stopped paying attention to them. He knew who those familiar footsteps belonged to. Seeing her with her broomstick would only make him feel sad again. The little voice in his head that would tell him to check was all too familiar as well. However, this time, he was determined to ignore her, but it proved to be much more difficult this time because Harry noticed Sam was now gazing at the staircase, and she had expressions of utter amazement on her face. He finally gave in to his curiosity and turned to the staircase as well. He could see Ginny was wearing an unusually oversized raincoat, busily clutching it to keep it closed together, but it was her face that caught his attention. With her red hair up, her face was revealed in its entirety and she appeared to be wearing some makeup. She looked radiantly beautiful as she slipped out of the common room.

With a twinkle in her eye, Sam quickly gathered herself and tugged at Harry’s frozen arm, dragging him to the doorway with all her might, “Harry, I want to check out the sunset. Let’s… continue our chat outside.”

Harry was too numb to protest and he mindlessly allowed Sam to steer him out of the castle in the process. In his mind, he was just killing himself, for letting the beautiful girl of his dreams be paired up with another boy. Before he knew it, Sam had dragged him to the bushes overseeing the Quidditch fields.

“Perfect spot!” Sam hooted excitedly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She realized Harry was right. Her silver hair had grown considerably these past few months.

According to Harry, it was a perfect spot too, because from where they were, he could clearly see Oliver and Ginny in the Quidditch fields in full view. They were having their practices together, but this one was definitely special, because Oliver was wearing formal attire instead of his usual sweats. He immediately understood why, because his eyes glowed when he saw Ginny remove her raincoat. It turned out she had been hiding her costume underneath the bulky raincoat. She was mesmerizing in her glittering red gown.

Harry gasped when he saw her spin around for Oliver, displaying her beauty for him. His eyes were burning jealously because he had just discovered her outfit was backless.

Soon after, Harry could hear music coming from the Quidditch fields as Oliver and Ginny took to the skies. It was a fast beat song. It was obvious they were doing a practice run through of their routine for the final time.

“What a horrible song! It must be Oliver’s idea! It’s totally not Ginny’s style! Doesn’t even match her outfit!” Sam frowned and looked up at Harry sympathetically, who was standing silently next to her as he was gazing sadly at the two of them flying together.

“Harry, Oliver’s very handsome with his stone green suit and tie,” Sam’s arm was inching for his back. She wanted to pat him and comfort him, but at the last second, she withdrew it and put it back to her side.

“Yeah, very handsome,” he mumbled sourly.

“Harry, you’ll be even more handsome in your blue… never mind… you’ll see…” she chirped, but her voice had lost the usual spunk.

“Harry, I forgot to tell you I… have detention… with… Snape. He caught me dozing off in class… so I have to head back,” Sam choked, wiping the corner of her eye. But Harry’s eyes were too busy locking themselves at the Quidditch fields to notice.

“Harry, it’s such a gorgeous sunset! A bit windy though! Promise me you’ll… stay here and… enjoy it for a while! See ya!” she forced herself to giggle and quickly hopped away, leaving Harry alone to painfully watch Oliver and Ginny spinning and twirling in the air, his hand on her waist, releasing all kinds of light with their wands.

Harry’s mouth fell open when he saw Ginny suddenly in freefall.

“Ginny!” he called out with his arm outstretched. But before he even started to run for her, he saw Oliver immediately catching her by the waist, doing a few graceful twists in the process. He couldn’t help but remember that this was the maneuver he dreamt of performing with Ginny. Biting his lip, he continued to watch them, hoping that Oliver wouldn’t hurt her in the process.

Hiding behind the bushes from afar, Sam knew she had no intention of heading to detention. She would stay with him, secretly watching him to make sure he was okay, just like he was secretly admiring Ginny to make sure she was okay. She pulled him here and left him alone because she wanted him to memorize their entire routine, every twist and throw, with no distractions coming from her.

Unlike Harry, Sam refused to let her hopes go. Gripping at the bushes, she was determined to keep holding on to the possibility of them performing together tomorrow evening. Even though the odds of that happening are next to zero, she would not let go of this possibility until the final second of the competition had passed and until the final applause had been cheered.

According to Sam, nothing was impossible. That was why for the past week, she had stayed up every night in order to put together a costume for Harry, in the event that he would need it when he would pair with Ginny tomorrow, even though she had to get up before sunrise to practice broom flying with him. That was the reason why she kept dozing off in class, and she couldn’t escape Snape today.

Sam was constantly late for her practice sessions, but Harry was very patient with her and didn’t seem to mind, because he would take advantage of the time by himself to observe Ginny training her routine. What he didn’t know was she was never late for their sessions. Instead, she was hiding behind the bushes just like now, watching him as he would watch Ginny. She wanted him to see more of Ginny and learn more about their routine.

Looking for an excuse to sneak a peek at her costume, Sam asked Ginny to teach her to sew, despite the fact she had no interest in these girlish things. Sam was surprised she accepted, given the fact that she was Harry’s mentee. However, Ginny treated her with none of the hostilities that she showed for her mentor. In fact, she was quite protective of her. On one occasion, when Ginny saw her being teased by her fellow classmates for being the only girl with a boy as a mentor, Ginny came along and threatened the bullies away. It could be that the deep protective feelings Ginny harbored for Harry was now being directed to his mentee.

Ginny was demonstrating to her the sewing spells in her room by using her own red gown as the example, and seeing the gown was what Sam needed in order to tailor the costume for Harry. She wanted him to project a look that would compliment Ginny and her red gown under the spotlight. She was proud of her sewing efforts. With the help of magic and having Ginny as her teacher, she taught her all the necessary spells and she made him a stylish blue tuxedo, a silver shirt and red bow tie, and she finally put in the final touches last night.

She was now visualizing in her mind what Harry and Ginny would be like together tomorrow. She realized Harry never practiced with Ginny, but she knew he would never let her down. He would always pull through for her. Standing under the spotlight, the two of them would be the final competitor of the evening. They would step into the Quidditch fields and perform perfectly, with Harry strong and handsome in his blue tuxedo, and Ginny as the most beautiful girl of the entire competition in her flowing red gown. The ending pose would find Ginny in Harry’s arms, where she always belonged. Maybe fate would stop being so cruel to them for once and grant them a chance, so they could be happy together again. It had been so long she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them laughed to each other.

Knowing Harry since the beginning of her existence, Sam was deeply aware what size of costume would fit him comfortably. Unbeknownst to him, she became a part of his life two years ago when Ginny gave her to him as a Christmas present.

Her existence was a result of their pure love. She was with them at both their happiest moments, as well as the sad ones. She witnessed their dreams, nightmares, laughs, and cries. She felt their heartbeats and experienced their pure love for each other. Once, she was in Ginny’s bed when she was crying after Harry kissed her on the forehead. In the following year, she was in Harry’s bed when he was crying over his betrayal that he had since forgotten. In their desperate times, she rested on both their thumping hearts and restored their energy when they needed her help. Most of the time though, she was on Harry’s shelf, watching him grow up physically and unfortunately, aged emotionally as well.

Once again, they would need her help, and hopefully this time, in the form of a human girl, she would be able to guide them back to their paths before it was too late. What she didn’t prepare herself for was that the ability to fall in love was a large part of being human, and she found herself accidentally and gradually falling in love with the boy that was in front of her eyes, the very boy she was trying to help, so he could get back with his girl.

Sam understood that loving someone does not mean having to be with that person. In her case, it was impossible anyway, being what she was, a spirit of a shattered dove statue. She would still do everything in her power to help him though, because loving him would mean doing what was best for him, and that would be to help him find Ginny, because he belonged to her and no one else. A smile gradually filled her pale face as the corner of her happy lips would meet a drop of tear quietly rolling down her cold cheek. She realized she had to say goodbye to him now while she still could.

“You’ve seen too many tears and shed too many for your life time, my dear Harry Potter…

“You occasionally let some out when the pain is too much to bear, but too many are still drowning in your broken heart…

“Hopefully, when Ginny’s by your side again, your pain will be gone.

“I promise you… I’ll never cry in front of you… because I don’t want you to have to see more tears…

“Even though I really want to cry every time I see you… I’m so moved by you…

“I’ll always giggle for you… act strong and foolish in front of you…because…

“I don’t want to add to your burdens… I don’t want you to care about me… worry about me… because I know you will, being the good person that you always are…

“I want you to care about Ginny… devote your all to her… love her and only her…

“There cannot be another girl other than Ginny in your heart… I will not allow you…

“Until the day when you’ll find your Ginny again… that’s when my time is up… and I’ll go back to the way I was… and I’ll be nothing more than a passerby in your life…

“You’ll remember me as… the spirit of the dove statue… the clown… the girl… with a big mouth… bad hair… and a bad attitude…

“Harry, Ginny, good luck with the competition… because I know there will be a miracle tomorrow… all the stars will be aligned for the two of you…

“I’ll pray for you tonight…”

The branches that she had pushed aside the whole time to give her a view of Harry suddenly snapped back to their original position, effectively breaking off her gaze on him. Thankfully, he did not notice the whistling sounds caused by this. Sam gazed at her fingers tiredly and she could sadly see why she lost her grip on the branches; her hands and arms were starting to get blurry and they were losing their shape with the rest of her body. She was so focused on Harry she didn’t notice that the autumn leaves had been floating through her teary face and body the entire time, like she was a part of the misty air. She gently closed her teary eyes. She understood what was happening to her.

“I don’t have much time left, Harry… there’s only so much I can do to keep me in this form…

“So make sure you catch Ginny tomorrow…

“Harry… you deserve nothing but the very best in the world… and that’s Ginny…

“Never lose hope… Harry.

“I’ll miss you… my good friend…

“I love you… Harry Potter.”

Chapter 16 Foolish Girl

“Who’s there?” Harry snapped his head towards the staircase. Although no one was there, he swore he felt a pair of twinkling eyes that just blinked at him. In fact, it was like this the entire day, as if someone was watching him. The feeling became more eerie as the evening wore on, because the castle grew quieter by the minute as the students were leaving for the Quidditch fields to catch the competition.

“Who’s there?” he turned again. “Oh, it’s you, Sam. How come you’re still here?”

“Well, what about you?” she snorted obnoxiously as she carefully made her way down. She was clutching a very large flat black plastic bag that was almost the same size as her. Harry could see a hook was stuck out at the end. On top of the bag was a pair of shiny black dress shoes. There was a measuring tape dangling around her neck.

“What’s all this?” Harry strolled towards her and grabbed them from her unstable arms, noticing that the plastic bag was about to smother her.

“Harry, don’t forget Ginny giving us those backstage passes! She really wants us to be there to support her! We can go cheer her on!” she was hopping up and down animatedly around Harry. “Her git brother and his girlfriend are there already!”

“You go ahead. I… I’ll come a little later,” he planted everything neatly on the coffee table.

“In that case, you’ll have time to do something for me. I have a favor to ask you,” she unzipped the bag.

“I… made something… for my older brother… you know… as a Christmas present. He’s… built just like you. I am wondering if you can… try it on to see if it fits,” muttered Sam uncomfortably, trying to make her story sound believable.

Harry stared at the items as she was pulling them out one by one, apparently trying very hard to not burst out laughing, “Are you kidding me? You… you… made all this? And you want me to model… a bow tie… and a tux… for you?”

“If you tell anyone this, I’ll peck your head off,” she hissed threateningly.

Harry had no plans to make fun of her. In fact, he had been grateful to her the entire time for not bringing up the embarrassing events that took place in the hall that breakfast between him and Oliver. Modeling clothes was the last thing he wanted to do, but since he had nothing else to busy with, he decided to comply with her ridiculous request.

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, you never talk about your family.”

“Oh… nothing interesting… just mum and pa… me and my brother… regular non-magic folksy folks…”

She suddenly seized his hands and slammed all the items onto them, hoping he would stop asking about her non-existent family, “There’s a blazer, pants, shirt, belt, and a bow tie. I want you to put everything on for me!

“Put these on too!” she pounded the shoes over the pile of clothes that she had just shoved into his face.

Harry was gaping at the red bow tie, but he already knew it was fruitless to argue with her. He sighed and trudged upstairs, regretting to have agreed to this.

After making sure that Harry had disappeared into the boys’ dormitory, Sam growled and began to stomp on the floor angrily. It was because she was furious with herself for not having done enough to ensure her plan would run smoothly. In fact, she had no plan at all. Up until last night, she had been obsessed with only creating the perfect outcome she had completely neglected to plan what she needed to do to reach the outcome. It wasn’t until this morning that she finally realized how crazy she was, thinking Oliver would just disappear because the stars heard her cries. She was blaming her naivety on her inability to keep her human emotions in check.

That was the reason why she woke up early in the morning and immediately dashed to the North Tower towards Oliver’s quarters, hoping she could find a way to knock him out of the competition. She finally realized that things do not automatically fall into place just because you wished for them. Many interesting and appalling ideas popped into her head, including dislocating some parts of Oliver’s body and making it look like it was an accident, or putting a puddle of water at his doorway so he could slip and break a hip. However, she was blaming herself for not acting sooner, and doing more than just pray. She could have found a way to dislocate his shoulder during one of the supplementary flying sessions, but she knew the perfect opportunity to do that had passed, because there were no classes today.

All hope wasn’t lost, however. While Sam was spying on Oliver this morning in the North Tower, looking for a way to knock him out, she saw him madly storming out with his broomstick shortly after two people whom she had never seen before exited from his quarters. She hid in the North Tower for hours, waiting for him, but he still hadn’t returned.

Not knowing what to do, she could only hope Oliver would never come back, so she turned her focus on someone she could control, Harry. She had been following him the entire day, keeping an eye on him, making sure he was safe and unharmed, because he had to be in top physical shape for tonight. This was extremely easy because all he did was eat and then he would sit alone by the fireplace in the common room. She made up the story about her brother on the spot to get him to wear the costume. The next step was to get him to the fields with the costume, alter the name list, change the music selection, and find a way to get rid of Oliver, but those felt like monumental tasks. Her mind was going crazy and spinning wildly, because she still didn’t know how to proceed, and there were so many things to do.

Harry suddenly poked her from behind, waking her up from her convoluted thoughts.

“Harry,” she breathed captivatingly, her heart fluttering uncontrollably and her knees ready to cascade as she spun around. Standing in a complete tuxedo in front of her scorching eyes, Harry was like a knight in shining armor, and the prince in every little girl’s fantasies, including her own.

“Well?”

“You look… like… what you usually look like… a nerd with glasses, and now a nerd with glasses in a tux!” she barked breathlessly, quickly reminding herself to not let her human emotions take over as she took the measuring tape and pretended to measure his shoulders. In fact, she was using it to distract her by focusing on it so she wouldn’t have to look at Harry.

“Everything fits me perfectly, including the shoes,” he replied somewhat smugly, deeply aware that he was looking sharp. “I hope your brother likes the glitter and stuff… because it looks… very showy…”

“Kick up your leg and throw your arms around!” she demanded.

“Just do it! I want to make sure nothing rips in the seams or something.”

Harry reluctantly kicked up his leg and spun his arms around as Sam circled around him and examined him from behind.

“WOE…WOE…” he squirmed, covering his backside with his hands. “Sam, there’re certain places your hands shouldn’t go__”

“Get real, Harry! I was just trying to straighten out the tail! Perfect!”

“Can I take it off now?”

“Erm… Harry. Sit down,” she pushed him into the seat. Her mind was racing, frantically thinking of a way to convince him to go to the fields in this outfit.

“Let’s go to the competition now!” she hollered, tugging at his arm.

Harry didn’t understand why she was behaving more oddly than usual. She had just shoved him into the chair two seconds ago, and now she was yanking him up.

“Fine. Let me change and__”

Sam suddenly ripped his glasses off his face and stormed to the common room doorway.

“I’m going to flush them down the toilet!” she hopped up and down, laughing like a hyena. “Catch me if you can!”

“What are you doing?” he fumed and chased her out of the common room.

Because he didn’t have his glasses, Harry was slow coming down the castle stairs, but once he was on the ground floor, he immediately caught up to her. From the corner of her desperate eyes, she could see him quickly catching up to her now. She knew she could never outrun him, but this was the only way she could think of to get him to the fields wearing the costume. Determined to not let him catch her before reaching the fields, she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her, but tears were gushing out of her eyes, because she knew it was hopeless. She would not make it. Harry was too fast for her. She was going to fail at this juncture.

“AARGH!” she tumbled at the castle entrance.

“Sam!” he hurried over to her. He wanted to yell at her for acting so foolishly, but he swallowed his tongue when he spotted her tears, “Are you okay? You’re hurt! You’re… crying?”

“I don’t cry! You must be seeing things without your specs, you blind bat!” she struggled out of his grips and limped towards the fields, wiping her face in the process. Seeing her hurt and sensing that she really wanted him to head to the competition, he decided to let her go and only follow her from a distance.

Security of the event was one of the top priorities for Dumbledore. Ever since he was cleared of all the misunderstandings regarding Voldemort last year, he has seen his popularity in the wizard community increase. As a result, many wizards and witches gladly volunteered to stand guard all over the castle premises to ensure a smooth and enjoyable competition with no incidents. Harry spotted lineups of people waiting to get in, with many wizards and witches watching on. The Quidditch fields fell silent because it appeared the competition was about to begin.

“Harry, Sam, have you seen Oliver on your way here?” Hermione hurried towards them as they approached the backstage area.


“Oliver’s not here?” Sam beamed hysterically. It appeared she had completely forgotten the pain from her limping foot.

Hermione’s eyes quickly became enthralled by Harry’s dashing appearance, “You look hot! Where are your glasses? Why are you in a tux?”

Harry gave Sam a dark look as she quickly handed the glasses back to him.

“Ginny hasn’t seen Oliver all day. I looked all over the castle and couldn’t find him,” added Ron worriedly, studying Harry’s outfit curiously.

“Where the heck is he? He should be here in his costume now, like the rest of the competitors!”

Harry glanced towards the back of the room, and there were a group of people in costumes, pacing around nervously, but Ginny wasn’t amongst them. He grimaced because the costumes of the girls were so whimsical, overdone, and gawky they all looked like last year’s Christmas trees with lipstick. In his mind, Ginny would blow away the competition with her gown alone.

“Where’s Ginny?” asked Harry.

“She’s hiding in the back. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s thinking of withdrawing, but I told her they’re the final competitors, so maybe Oliver will make it by then,” Hermione frowned.

“Let me go look for__”

“No!” Sam cut in fiercely before realizing she should not have been so rude to Harry in front of his friends.

“Harry, I’ll go look for Oliver,” she chirped in a much calmer tone. “You stay here with Ginny. This is the time she really needs her friends.”

“But you’re limping__”

“I’m fine!” she flashed a bright smile and gave Harry a soft kick in the shoe.

Hermione’s expression suddenly appeared as if a bright zealous light had lit up on top of her head. She quickly shoved Harry to the back, “I agree with Sam. Harry, sit with Ginny. Ron and I both ran out of comforting words to say to her.”

After checking that Harry had disappeared, Sam pulled out a cassette tape from her pants pocket, but something else fell out in the process.

“You dropped something,” Hermione picked it up but her mouth fell open as soon as she noticed that it was a jigsaw puzzle, because seeing it reminded her of stealing a piece of Oliver’s puzzle from Ginny back at the Burrow. She quickly reached inside her own pocket and retrieved hers; it was from the same set.

Sam was trying to force a look of innocence, but Hermione was too smart for that, because she could still remember the way Sam was trying to block Oliver from reaching Ginny at the hall. With the puzzle, she finally understood that Sam shared the same intentions as her regarding Harry and Ginny, and she was wondering nastily if she had anything to do with Oliver’s disappearance.

“Oliver won’t make it,” Sam muttered. She knew she had to come clean, because a battle of the minds with Hermione was futile.

“WHAT?” Ron and Hermione both bellowed in disbelief, wondering what a fragile little girl like her could have done to stop a very competitive Oliver from competing.

“I swear I didn’t do anything to him. I… just know… Wouldn’t he be here by now if he wanted to show?”

Hermione and Ron stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Anyway, tonight… it’s supposed to be Harry and Ginny’s night… That’s what I call the perfect combination!” Sam insisted.

“Harry’s in a costume! His Firebolt’s in the castle! Plus, he knows the routine by hard! He’s good to go with Ginny! I swear! Everything is paved perfectly for them!” Sam choked very quickly. Both Ron and Hermione were still in shock.

“You want to see Harry perform with Ginny, right?” she shrieked, finally waking them up from their frozen tracks. “You’ve got to help me! I know it! You’ve got to trust me!”

It was the most ridiculous feeling for Hermione, but as she gazed at the puzzle pieces in her hand again, she recalled how ridiculous it was for her to steal one piece, thinking Ginny would never complete the puzzle without it and she would not have to fulfill Oliver’s promise to visit Angeline’s Café together. Sam was right, she thought to herself. She really wanted Harry to be paired with Ginny. In addition, she also agreed with her that Oliver would have arrived by now if he had the intention to compete tonight. But she also remembered the heated argument she had with Ginny when she tried to convince her to pair with Harry, and she ended up pushing her over the edge. Ginny’s voice from that argument was still ringing in her head to this day, when she told her fiercely she would never speak to her again if she would mention her name and Harry in the same sentence. That was why Hermione had since stopped her efforts at matching them together.

“I… love to help… but Ginny… if she finds out I’m involved… she will… she…” Hermione murmured, giving her back the puzzle.

Sam immediately breathed a sigh of relief, “Then we’ll keep all this a secret! You don’t tell them I’m involved and I won’t tell them about you!

“Please, Hermione! I’m begging you! We must do this for them! We must get moving now before it’s too late!”

“Alright!” Hermione could hear herself yell out. “Tell me what we can do!”

“I need to get Harry’s Firebolt here… but I also have to make sure he stays put in his costume… and I have to alter the name list… but I don’t know the spells to bewitch__”

“Madam Hooch is the master of ceremony for the evening. Dobby is in charge of the music… I’ll find a way… to bewitch the list or something. Ron can go fetch his Firebolt!”

Ron was scratching his head, “Are you sure about__”

“JUST GO!” Hermione blasted and yanked him along, ignoring the little voice in her head that was telling her she was going mad for taking instructions from a little girl.

Sam was happy to see Harry’s friends were willing to help. Staring at the cassette tape and the puzzle in her hands, she believed she could make the evening more magical by changing the music selection. She peered towards the back and noticed that it was very quiet back there.

“I’m sure Harry will stay put. I know Harry… he’ll stay with Ginny… because he knows she needs him now…” she nodded confidently.

“I have to try… I’m sure Dobby will understand,” she limped out of the backstage with her cassette tape.

****

Seeing a shadow of someone in a costume, Ginny turned her head up.

“Oliver?”

“I hope you’re not disappointed,” Harry smiled mildly. “You look… beautiful, Ginny.”

Ginny looked up at him and was spellbound by his handsomeness. She had never seen him in such formal attire before. It had been a while since she had a private conversation with him these past few months. For some reason, the usual hostilities she had for him have dissipated. She was wondering if it could be due to the fact that every ounce of her hostility was being channeled at Oliver for abandoning her, or perhaps she no longer remembered the reasons she was angry with Harry in the first place.

“Thanks,” she gazed at him up and down impressively. “Why are you…”

“Sam,” he replied indignantly. “She tricked me into wearing this outfit and lured me here. I think she wants me to get mixed up with the competitors or something. It’s one of her many many attempts to make a fool out of me.”

“You… you’re not… a fool…” she mumbled soulfully.

“Your dress is… backless, aren’t you… cold? It’s a December evening after all…” he removed his blazer and draped her in it. It was a simple gesture, but she couldn’t help but remember how many times he had offered his jacket for her. In her mind, he was always a gentleman.

“Harry… I…”

“Shh… everything is going to be okay. Ron and Hermione are looking for Oliver now… Sam too…

“Speaking of Sam, I think she likes you very much… She was determined to come here to cheer you on…


“She adores you the same way her mentor does…” Harry could hear himself babble before he realized he might have just accidentally confessed his love for her.

“NO… I mean… she adores you… just like she adores her mentor…” Harry was panting and his face reddening. “WAIT… her mentor is me! No… that’s not what I mean… There’s nothing between Sam and me…”

Ginny giggled. Harry was thrilled because he finally made her laugh. Sensing that she was warming up to him, he timidly reached over her shoulders and gently pulled her closer. She did not object. Instead, she closed her eyes and rested herself in his embrace, because it was exactly what she needed right now. They remained like this quietly in the back room, the two of them sitting side by side to each other, with her in his arms, and it felt like as if time had stood still for them.

“Ginny, I… want to…” he broke the angelic silence and choked hoarsely.

”The final competitors of this evening is Miss Ginny Weasley…”

It was Madam Hooch’s voice in the speakers. Harry quickly breathed back his words as Ginny opened her eyes and gazed at him fearfully.

”Miss Ginny Weasley and… hmm… let me put on my reading glasses…”

“Don’t worry. I know Oliver. He’s a competitor. I’m sure he must be waiting for you at the fields or something,” muttered Harry softly, gazing into her misty brown eyes.

”Mr. Harry Potter!”

Chapter 17 Instincts Of The Thumping Heart (Reprise)

“OH MY GOSH! DID YOU JUST HEAR THAT?” Hermione’s shrill voice shrieked through the backroom as its frantic owner trampled her way inside, short-circuiting an already confused Harry and a shocked Ginny even more. Noticing Harry and Ginny were too busy gaping at each other in disbelief, she quickly winked at Ron, who was also rushing in, to continue the cover-up.

“YEAH! WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?” Ron added in an exaggerated manner, picking up Hermione’s furtive eyes, who was now covering her cheeks in complete astonishment. “HOW COME YOU’RE IN THE COMPETITION, HARRY?”

Hermione quickly dragged their immobile bodies out of their seats and pushed them out of the backroom and towards the fields. As they inched closer, they could hear the gasps and murmurs echoing from the crowds; everyone was shocked that Oliver Wood was not the final competitor of the evening, as the newspapers had reported.

“There… must… be… a mistake… what about… Oliver?” Harry squeaked in a shiver as Hermione removed the blazer from Ginny’s shoulders and helped him put it on. It was obvious his body was completely frozen, because he was letting her have her way with him like a sock puppet.

“What’s… my Firebolt… doing here?” he muttered unconsciously, staring at the broomstick tugged underneath a bench.

“Oh yes,” Hermione swallowed, forcing a hearty laugh. “It’s one of Sam’s silly tricks. She hid it there because… she… wants you to think you lost it… to freak you out… she wanted to play a trick on you… you know… her usual craziness! I guess it’s not a good hiding place since you found it already!”

“Where is she?” asked Harry, still sounding very spaced out.

“Erm… maybe she’s… in the bathroom!” Hermione breathed shallowly as she smoothed his blazer.

Suddenly, Ginny gasped and freed herself from the group, apparently awakened from what she thought was a horrible sleepwalking episode.

“I… I don’t know what’s going on… but this is absolutely crazy! This must be some bad joke! I’m beginning to wonder if… if you two… have anything to do with this…

“I… can’t just pair with… Harry… just like that…” she darted to the backroom, her entire body trembling.

“Sis, who cares!” Ron seized her by the shoulder. “Oliver’s not here! Your names have been called! You’re in a costume. Harry is in a costume. His Firebolt__”

“I CARE! What about my safety? We… we never… practiced__”

“There’s no time!” Hermione cut in, glaring at the looming gateway leading to the Quidditch fields.

“Ginny, listen! LISTEN TO ME!” Ron shook Ginny and gazed deeply into her watery eyes, trying to calm her down. “I am your brother! Your safety is my top priority! There’s a safety net in case anything happens. But I’m sure you won’t need it…

“Oliver is right. He was keeper at the game at the Burrow, remember? He got to see the entire field and he saw how Harry caught you when you fell… as if Harry knew where you were in the air the entire time.

“I was also keeper at the opposite end!” he continued, his words getting louder and faster. “I got to see everything too! When I saw you fall, I didn’t have even a drop of fear or worry, and you want to know why?

“It’s because Harry was hovering next to you!” he shouted reassuringly, flaring his arms uncontrollably. “Harry was covered in pumpkin juice all over his eyes. But I still wasn’t afraid… because I know I can depend on him… he’s going to save you, just like he always does… AND HE DID!!

“Even mum wasn’t rushing out! She told me she was watching us, worrying about us as usual!

“Yet all she did was slip a mug to the floor. She did nothing, just like I was, and Fred, and George… doing absolutely nothing! She, like the rest of us, also saw Harry next to you, and our own protective mother trusted him enough to let you go, to place your safety in his hands…

“I think I can say this for me and on behalf of the entire Weasley clan…” he was pounding his heart with his fist. “If there’s one person we trust with your well-being and safety, IT IS HARRY!!

“THAT’S WHY I HAVE COMPLETE FAITH IN HARRY PAIRING WITH YOU TONIGHT!!”

”Please welcome Miss Ginny Weasley and Mr. Harry Potter…” Madam Hooch’s voice echoed.

There were sounds of suppressed applause from the fields. It was obvious many fans of Oliver Wood were disappointed.

Ron took a deep breath and lowered his voice substantially, “Gin, I’ll kill you if you’ll ever quote me on this but…

“You are truly pretty tonight… don’t let all your efforts go to waste…

“Always remember you are always beautiful. You will always be my beautiful little sister. I’m so proud of you… and…

“I love you,” he embraced her, with Hermione beaming proudly in the background. She had never seen Ron so mature, eloquent, and rising to the occasion for his little sister.

“Ronald Weasley, I’m proud of you… and I love you,” Hermione nodded to herself, noticing that Ginny’s confidence appeared to have been restored with her brother’s striking words of support.

Harry gently walked over to Ginny and gazed at her. He wanted to say so many things to her, but he was at a loss for words. He hoped he could let his eyes do the talking, to reassure her, tell her that he had memorized her routine, and that he would never let her down, exactly as Ron had said so clearly.

“Ginny, there’s nothing to lose. You might as well go for it,” Hermione pleaded and gazed at Harry. “I agree with Ron. I have full confidence in Harry too.”

Ginny could see herself reaching for his bowtie and adjusting it slightly. It was a strange feeling for her. Minutes ago, he was like a stranger to her, someone she hadn’t spoken to for months. Now, she would compete with him as a team, just like she had fantasized countless times before. She realized she would have to put her safety in his hands now. She must trust him again.

With a pure look of approval, Ron patted his best friend’s back as Hermione held back her tears and handed them their brooms. Harry nodded at Ron, seemingly telling him with his eyes that he would not let him down. He would make sure his little sister would be safe.

“Harry, Ginny, promise to perform… with your hearts!” said Hermione, pounding her chest just like what Ron did earlier. “Let your hearts guide you through the performance!”

“Good luck.”

Harry confidently took Ginny’s trembling hand, and she could immediately feel his warmth traveling throughout her body as they rushed towards the fields. Before they reached the gateway, he paused and turned to her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Standing handsomely against the dark skies with his broomstick, he gazed at her with his igniting green eyes, and they immediately reminded her of the pair of bright green stars that used to guard over her and made her feel safe and loved last year. No longer shaking, she could sense his quivering heartbeat through his sparkling gaze. She felt safe again, realizing that the green stars finally found their way back into her life, and their owner was holding her hand once more.

“Let’s get the show on the road!” they stormed to the center of the fields.

“Please drum up your applause to welcome the last couple for this evening…” Hooch was clapping wildly, trying to boost up the deflated crowd as the spotlight lit up and shone on them standing in the middle of the fields. “Miss Ginny Weasley and Mr. Harry Potter… performing to the song titled…”

Hooch smothered the parchment into her face; she was having trouble reading it.

“I’m really having problems with my eyes this evening!” she bellowed. “Okay! Got it! ‘Wind Beneath My Wings!”

“WHAT?” Harry grimaced to a startled Ginny as applause broke out and the music started to play. “That’s not the song you did with Oliver!”

“What are we gonna do?” Ginny was crimson red, her broom almost slipping off her grips as the tenuous confidence that Ron, Harry, and Hermione infused into her was starting to crumble away. Then she suddenly wondered how Harry knew what song she had used with Oliver.

“We’ll improvise!” he commanded and urged her to her broom. “Go! Do your routine exactly like you planned! I’ll know what to do! Go!”

Before she knew it, Ginny found herself kicking towards the dark skies, madly worrying if it would be more appropriate that the song be called, “An Accident Waiting In The Wings,” or “A Redhead In The Hospital Wing,” because not only was she with a partner she had never practiced with before, she was now performing to the wrong song. The fact that Harry told her to improvise was not too comforting either, but soon after, the sounds of cheering from the audience began to sooth her senses as they watched them floating in the misty air.

“It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked a step behind.”

Exactly like what Oliver used to do, Harry was rotating around her sharply as she was zigzagging higher and higher. To her amazement, every one of his swift positions was timing to hers crisply. Her confidence immediately shot up as she could see that he definitely knew what he was doing.

Copying what Oliver would do at this point, Harry sped ahead of her after the zigzagging section and fireworks sparkled from his wand, illuminating the entire skies. She followed behind him and sent fireworks to the opposite end while at the same time, pondering how he knew that this was the point for the fireworks. With their combined efforts, the skies were enchanted with all colors of dazzles as the audience applauded from below.


”So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strain.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.”

The music and lyrics were easing into Ginny’s ears movingly in the background of harmonious applause as she flew near the speakers, with Harry at the opposite end. Without realizing it, tears started to flow out of her eyes, but she didn’t forget that the upcoming maneuver would be their first release move, where she would let go of her broom and allow herself to be in freefall.

Oliver and Ginny had trained this stunt countless times and she was capable of reaching the highest point before letting go. Because of Oliver’s gruesome training regimen, they were the only team to perform this stunt with so much height. However, she wasn’t performing with Oliver at this moment. She was performing with someone she had never practiced with before. However, this someone wasn’t just anyone, because it was Harry. This someone was her Harry. She had to trust him now. She had no choice. There could not be even an ounce of doubt. She must let go now.

Waving her wand to emit a beaming red light, she released herself from her broom as everyone gasped, anxiously waiting for Harry to catch her.

”Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.”

Ginny could hear the rocketing applause from the crowds when she landed seamlessly into Harry’s embrace. The cheers were especially explosive because she was merely inches off the ground when he caught her.

As they rippled gracefully into the air again, with her red dress flowing with the wind, Ginny could suddenly see some unexpected glittering shapes following them. They appeared to be beaming from Harry’s wand. As it turned out, he was emitting all kinds of green stars, multi-colored arches of rainbows, and golden curvy moons, and they lit up the dark skies powerfully. There was also a rather large red thumping shape following them swiftly.

”It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.”

The volume from the applause and cheers were deafening as all the illuminating shapes were smiling and following them as they spun in circles and zoomed higher. As if they had a cartoon life of their own, she had never seen these types of illuminations being used by other competitors. Even Oliver was limiting himself to emitting beams of light and fireworks. Suddenly, it just occurred to her that the only way Harry was able to cast these illuminating charms and hold her in his arms at the same time was by riding the Firebolt without using his hands, and to her surprise, he was doing that exactly, a maneuver that Oliver had trouble performing consistently. She understood why the audience was so generous with their cheers. It was because Harry was performing this trick so smoothly, with her solidly in his arms, while at the same time, rotating speedily in circles and casting the illuminating charms with seemingly little effort.

”Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be.
I could fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.”

She finally pulled her teary but impressive eyes away from the glittering shapes to look at Harry, and she just discovered that he had been gazing at her the entire time while she was in his arms as he was lighting up the skies with his glittering shapes, a choreography coming from his heart.

“Ready, Ginny?” Harry choked and raced to the top of the skies, holding her waist as the sparkling shapes followed them along.

”Did I ever tell you you're my hero?
You're everything, everything I wish I could be.
Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.”

No longer with a broom, Ginny was at Harry’s mercy now.

“Yes,” she muttered.

“Please trust me. I’ll never let you down,” he gave his Firebolt a jolt of acceleration, blasted to the utmost top, and let her go.

”Fly, fly, fly high against the sky,
so high I almost touch the sky.”

Ginny closed her teary eyes as she waved her wand. This was the point in their program where she would engulf herself with layers of glitter that would surround her like multiple veils of shadowy colors as she floated in the air, waiting to be caught for the final time.

Ginny understood that this second release move was much more difficult to perform than the previous one, because with this one, the starting position of the man was at the utmost top of the horizons, unlike the previous one, where the man was at the opposite end of the fields. Not only must the man be able to dive towards the ground faster than the falling woman, he must also time himself perfectly to stop himself in order to catch the woman successfully.

Ginny must start her countdown now, beginning at ten, just like it was with Oliver.

“10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1.5…1.4…1.4…

“WHERE’S HARRY?” she gasped in panic as she could see the ground was rushing towards her and it was already past ten seconds.

Suddenly, Harry swept beneath her, her toes skimming the ground as both sped by. The applause was unbelievable. Everyone got up from their seats and watched them sail back to the top as Ginny and Harry combined their wands and emitted all kinds of light together.

“Thank you, thank you,
thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.”

The extraordinary stars and curvy moons gradually vanished as the two of them slowly landed in the center of the fields to a standing ovation. For some reason, the thumping heart lingered in front of them and Harry didn’t know how to get rid of it. It only disappeared when the music faded. Judging from the level of the noise and excitement however, it was clear which team had stolen the evening thunder. It was over.

“Ginny, you… lost a shoe,” Harry grinned as they bowed to the explosive audience.

Ginny fumed between her smiling teeth, “No thanks to you! I could have died in that second release move! You could have caught me sooner! I was supposed to count ten seconds! You took more__”

“At least I caught you at the end. That’s what counts,” he whispered smugly.

“Oh yeah! Well, Harry, what were all those… shapes?” Ginny teased him back, trying very hard to not crack a laugh as they bowed to the audience on the other side.

Harry’s face was now redder than her dress, finally realizing how childish the floating smiling shapes were, the way they were dancing in front of his eyes before they disappeared at the end of the performance. He wanted to kick himself as he was asking himself why they had to be so embarrassingly huge and so blindingly bright, especially the red thumping heart, and why they were following them like a train when they were in the air.

“I… don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. They… they just came off my wand… I only wanted… light… and…”

Suddenly, Harry was distracted by something from afar. It was the same feeling he had throughout the day, except this time it was one of peace and calm and not eeriness. The feeling was much farther this time, because it was coming from the spot where Sam brought him to watch Ginny and Oliver do their final practice yesterday evening. He thought he saw a pair of twinkling stars had just blinked at him from there.

“Harry, what is it?” asked Ginny, noticing he was smiling serenely and gazing appreciatively at something from afar. “We have to head backstage to await our scores.”

“Oh… nothing. Let’s… head back,” he suddenly scooped her off the ground.

“Harry, what are you doing?” she protested in his arms as the audience cheered some more.

“What does it look like, Ginny? I’m carrying you inside! How can you walk with one shoe?” he strolled towards the backstage, with her in his arms, taking one last brief gaze at the faraway spot before stepping inside.

”Thank you... for watching over us…”

Credits to the song, “Wind Beneath My Wings,” lyrics written by Tony Christie and performed by Bette Midler

Chapter 18 I Heard My Love Asked About Me

“Sis, I can’t believe Snape took all your points because you lost your freaking shoe!” complained Ron, examining Harry’s golden broomstick trophy as the four of them opened the portrait to the common room. “Everyone could see it flew off only because Harry was going all out in that final release move, catching you only in the last second!”

“Thank goodness for Dumbledore. He had the right mind to give you guys the edge in the tiebreaker!” Hermione beamed, clutching a heavy bottle of champagne and many bouquets of flowers for Ginny.

“Well, he wanted to see a performance from the heart! Harry gave us a heart all right! A big red smiling one! And it thumps too!” Ron burst out laughing. “Where did you learn those ridiculous illumination spells, mate? That thing was so big and bright it__”

Hermione quickly nudged him in the back, sensing both Harry and Ginny were getting uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but remember the audience’s jeers when Dumbledore was making the point about performing with the heart. It was obvious the shapes Harry had conjured amused many spectators.

“Where’s everyone?” asked Ron quietly, noticing the common room was deserted.

“It’s well past two already! Everyone must have gone to bed by now! Those stupid photo sessions took forever!” Hermione yawned, handing Harry the cold champagne.

She reached over to Ginny and grabbed the rest of the bouquets and her costume, “I’m beat! Gin, let me take them upstairs for you! You don’t mind me taking some of these roses, right?”

Ginny giggled as Ron took the broomsticks from Harry and quickly followed upstairs with the trophy, leaving the two of them alone in the common room.

Harry poured two glasses of champagne and handed her a glass.

“Congratulations, my Hogwarts Broomstick Princess,” he sniggered to a toast before realizing how ridiculous his words sounded.

“Sorry… about the shoe thing by the way. You were wonderful tonight. The photographers, everyone… they love you...

”Not as much as I love you…" he mused boyishly in his mind.

Ginny grinned and took a sip of the champagne as she strolled to the window, trying to hide the veil of melancholy that was creeping across her face. She was pondering why she was feeling sad, when it was supposed to be a joyous moment for the two of them. There could not be another reason why she was sad, other than the letdown from coming down from such a high and exciting peak, she thought to herself strenuously, knowing the magical experience from the spectacular evening they shared earlier had finally come to an end, and it would be a while before she would have another one.

“You look very handsome tonight, my Hogwarts Broomstick prince,” she cheered forcefully, playing along with him.

She had since changed back to her casual clothes, unlike Harry, who was still wearing his tuxedo and was very much immersed in the fantasy of the perfect moment that had already passed for Ginny.

“I have to thank my mentee for that. I guess it wasn’t so bad after all. I haven’t seen her all night by the way,” he inched closer to her. “I hope she’s okay. She was limping a bit earlier.”

“Coming from a family of brothers, Sam is the crazy little sister I always wished I have,” she muttered, trying to divert their conversation as far away from the two of them as possible, because she could sense Harry wanted to say something she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I’ve gotten to know her these past few months. She’s a tough girl… but deep inside… she’s not really…

“She reminds me of me sometimes…” her words were weakening to a whisper as she took another sip, “…especially back when I was eleven… when I met a boy… and I had… a crush on him too…”

“Hmm?” asked Harry as he planted his hand on her arm, slowly turning her around, not paying much attention to what Ginny was saying about Sam because he had in his mind, a very important message he wanted to deliver to her, a message that he was determined to deliver to her now.

“Ginny, I… want to tell you something… I was saying it to you earlier… at the backroom… but I was interrupted by Hooch’s announcement,” he gazed into her misty brown eyes, using Hooch as an excuse for his hesitant words, when he should be blaming himself, because he was still unable to deliver his emotional message to her at this quiet moment.

He could see himself leaning closer towards her, “I want to thank you… for everything you’ve done for me… and I… I…”

Ginny smiled weakly and covered his jittery lips with her fingers, seemingly letting him know it was all right, “It must be the champagne.

“Harry, it’s late,” she suddenly stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, surprising him so much he almost shattered the champagne glass in his hand.

Before Harry was able to wrap his arm around her, she pulled away and gently rubbed his stunned lips with her thumb, “Thanks for… stepping in tonight. You were wonderful too.”

“Ginny, wait, I… I… love…” Harry quickly unfroze his lips and garbled choppily, but his words fell to the floor because she had already disappeared upstairs.

Breathing shallowly and his heart racing, he was staring blankly at the staircase, wondering what had just happened and why she had just kissed him.

“It… it must be the champagne…” he unglued his feet and trudged upstairs, his mind and his heart spinning dizzyingly.

Ginny found herself unable to sleep despite what was a gruesome evening and having drank champagne earlier, something that would always make her drowsy. As she was cradling Harry’s unopened gift in her bed, the images of everything that had happened flooded her mind, but they were not of the cheering audience crying out their names when they won, or Dumbledore awarding them the trophy, or the photographers complimenting their every move. All the images were of Harry gazing at her, holding her, and all those shapes and thumping hearts he conjured up for her. The pair of green stars that used to watch over her had indeed come back to her in their original poignant form, and their owner was holding her hand endearingly like it once was. She smiled because at the end of the routine, they bickered like an old couple and he scooped her up without her permission. Even though she protested wildly, deep down she loved being in his arms, and she could sense that he was coyly aware of it.

With everything that had happened tonight, there was no doubt in her mind he had fallen hard for her. For a while, it felt wonderful, as if she was in a fairy tale, and she was truly a princess, and having the prince of her dreams loving her and doing all those breathtaking things for her. Just like all fairy tales, she surely believed she was able to love him and return to him again, and finally be able to forget all the pain from the past.

However, the beautiful fantasy came to a choppy end as soon as she removed her red dress. She realized that wearing it had made her temporarily forget about the heartache. When she was standing alone against the mirror, every ounce of pain from their past rushed back ruthlessly to her veins as she put her casual clothes on in the changing room. Unwittingly, the gown she made for herself had guided her into a fantasy world, but she understood it was not reality, and she could not hide behind it forever. She had convinced herself earlier that the reason she was sad was purely due to the feeling of letdown, but now, she knew she was using that as an excuse.

She kissed him earlier because she thought she had forgiven him. She truly wanted to get back with him and return to the way it was, because it would be so much simpler, for her as well as her friends. After all, she couldn’t help but suspect Ron and Hermione having something to do with tonight’s sudden change of events, because they were just too perfect to be solely due to coincidence, even if she really wanted to believe that foolishly.

Using the kiss as a test, she was convinced she could love him again, and let herself be loved by him again. She thought she could finally forget, and that she had been healed, but now, she understood she was only fooling herself, because the sense of endearment she always felt for him when they kissed was no longer there. Instead, the feelings that were rushing back were nothing but the suppressed anguish that was resurfaced when their lips met, letting her know the knot in her heart still had not been untied.

Despite the pain that was still grinding her heart, she was determined to try and get back with Harry, to accept his love, and to welcome him back to her life again. After tonight’s performance, she realized they were capable of beautiful things as a couple, and she was truly happy during the entire experience, as was him.

She once explained to Hermione that she was willing to do anything to make Harry happy because she loved him, and truly loving him would require her to put his interests first. She realized that she must return his love, because she was now rationalizing that he would be much more happier if he knew his love for her was being reciprocated. Perhaps in the process, she might enjoy being with him again, just like she was in tonight’s performance, and she would eventually release her tight grip on their past. After all, no one is perfect, she thought to herself. Everyone makes mistakes.

Fed up with her endless debates of the mind, she jumped out of her bed, wanting to tire herself out by doing something, anything. As soon as she spotted the unfinished jigsaw puzzle on the dresser, she immediately remembered Oliver’s mysterious disappearance. She had been so occupied with Harry she had forgotten about Oliver, and a grave sense of worry engulfed her, because there had to be something major to happen to stop him from competing. Now that the competition was over, she was no longer upset at him for abandoning her. Since she couldn’t sleep anyway, she hastily changed and decided to venture to the North Tower to check if he was all right.

As expected, the North Tower was deserted, just like the castle. As she climbed her way to the uppermost floor, the only sounds she could hear were the swirling winds bouncing through the stone halls. Walking along the empty halls, she was recalling their many months of grueling practice sessions, and how in the process, she had grown fond of Oliver as a friend and a person with an incredible work ethic. She enjoyed spending time with him in the practices; she was also grateful to him because she was never reminded of her past when she was with him, and for some reason, she could sense the same gratitude coming from him too.

During their practices, they would limit their conversations to their routine. It was as if both were trying to restrict a part of their lives from each other. A major reason for her participating in the competition was she wanted to be kept occupied. She wanted to fall asleep from physical tiredness, not from weariness as a result of crying, and Oliver was the ideal choice as a partner for her. Not only was he a skilled flyer, he was also a friendly face who treated her normally.

After making the final turn to the hallway leading to Oliver’s quarters, she could hear echoes of banging coming from his direction. Curious, she sped up and noticed that the thumping sounds were from his door opening and closing because of the drafty winds, and she wondered why the door would not just slam itself shut. As she examined his doorway, she could see something was awkwardly jammed at the bottom corner of the doorframe. It was a crumbled piece of parchment, and it was preventing the door from closing.

“Oliver, it’s Ginny,” she invited herself in and picked up the crumbled parchment, only to discover a motionless Oliver leaning over at his desk. He must have dozed off because his head was buried awkwardly on the desk, with one arm dangling to the side. His lamp was still turned on and a quill was on the floor. Looking around disapprovingly, the room was messy to the extreme, as if someone had hurled everything across the room. There were beer bottles everywhere. His costume was in a heap on the floor. Strangely, there was an owl sitting by the windowsill. There was also a wind chime and other unusual metal ornaments dangling at his window, making all kinds of furious noises because of the powerful winds from the high altitude.

“How can he sleep with all this racket?” she asked herself, tiptoeing next to him.

“Oliver… Oliver… It’s me… Ginny,” she gently shook his shoulder. But he did nothing except take a deep breath.

Suddenly remembering the parchment in her hand, she unfolded it and noticed scribbles of writings on it.

”My dear Yuriko:

Long time no see. How are you?”

Ginny could see the next sentence was madly crossed out, but she could still make out the words:

”I haven’t forgotten your face, your flowing black hair, your touch, and your perfume. I haven’t forgotten our seasons together, our every second, every dewdrop, falling leaf, snowflake, and sunshine that were ours, that just keep replaying in my mind.”

Ginny knew this letter was private and she should stop reading it now, but she couldn’t control her curiosity. Checking that Oliver was still asleep and feeling extremely guilty, she continued to read the letter:

”Evan and Daisy came to visit me today. They told me you secretly came back to London despite your father’s objections, and you managed to find a way to visit their Quidditch practice sessions by yourself. I guess after hanging around with a wizard like me for a few years, you picked up a few tricks to find our world without me.

I have asked them to give you my best regards next time they see you, and tell you I am doing fine, because I don’t think I will be able to do it directly. I’m afraid I will not be able to express myself, if I do see you again, if ever.

They said you asked about me and you wanted to know where I am. Don’t blame them for not telling you, because even they didn’t know where I have been until last week, and today I have asked them to not tell you, because I’m afraid…”

The lines on the rest of the letter were scratched out, but the emotional scratches could not mask the soulful words, because each of these words was cut thoroughly into the parchment. Seeing these deep cuts reminded her of her writing that aching story on the paper plane last year. She could painfully remember it like it was yesterday, when she was sitting alone by the lakeside, carving her pain on the parchment, word by word, letter by letter, and comma by comma. She was pressing on the quill so hard it snapped in two pieces and she couldn’t finish her last sentence at the end. Tears began to flood her eyes as she continued to read:

”…it will hurt even more if you were to find me, if we were to see each other again.

My pain of really wanting to see you but not having to courage to see you, the pain of wishing to see you but not seeing you, not seeing you again, ever again.

Your little vegetable dumplings, rice paper rolls, I promise, I promise you, I will never forget, never forget, never.

About the fact that you chose to leave me, I can only say I respect your decision, but I have to tell you, I really did wait for you that day. You have to believe me. Please believe me. I really did. I truly did, wait for you, that day.

In the future, when you eventually stop remembering me, remembering us, just toss the letter out the window to the winds, and let the rain wash away the ink, the words, and the memories.

Goodbye, my Yuriko.

-- Oliver Wood --”

She picked up the quill tearfully; unlike her quill last year, the tip on this one was not snapped in two pieces. That was why he was able to finish his letter.

Gazing at Oliver excruciatingly, she noticed an envelope was tucked underneath his face. Judging from the spots on his cheeks, she could see they were the remnants of tears that had been dried by the wind, the type of scars she was all too familiar with. As she gently yanked the envelope out, something sparkled out from it. It was an engagement ring.

She quickly recovered the ring, but before she tucked it back in the envelope, she spotted some carvings on it, “Yuriko Nanikawa.”

The pain she had been harboring since last year was unleashing itself through her tears now as she unknowingly rested her hand in his hair, seemingly trying to comfort him even though he was asleep. She had finally understood Oliver’s pain as she could still recall the day they met at Angeline’s Café not too long ago, when his face darkened as soon as she asked him about his girlfriend and the engagement ring. At that moment, she saw her reflection in him, as if he was her mirror, and she realized he was suffering from the same kind of wounds as her. That day, she took comfort knowing that even a strapping guy like him was unable to withstand the pain she was suffering from, and she empathized with him and invited him to stay at the Burrow.

Suddenly, there was a powerful current of wind blowing across the room, igniting the wind chime and ornaments to come roaring alive, followed by a loud banging sound coming from behind her. Turning around, she noticed the door had been slammed shut because of the winds. She immediately leaped to the door and pulled at the doorknob, but it was jammed.

She patted her pockets weakly, searching for her wand, only to remember that she had left it in her costume. She peered around his messy room behind her watery eyes, hoping to locate Oliver’s wand, but everything was too hazy, because her eyes were simply too heavy with tears.

“Oliver, Oliver, please…” she whimpered through her cries and shook his heaving shoulder again, but he was still in deep sleep, oblivious to all the noise around him.

The owl that was sitting by the windowsill dashed out of the room just before Ginny closed the window to silence the winds and the racket from the wind chime and ornaments. Once the window was closed, all that was left in the room were sounds of her muffled cries. After wrapping a blanket around Oliver, she lounged tiredly on his bed as she reread his letter. It appeared that all the tears she hadn’t shed these past three months were crying to come out now. She retrieved his pillow from the floor and buried her face in it, forgetting that his letter was still crumbled in her hand. She would not have guessed that she would get back to her old habits so quickly right after the end of the competition, because she found herself once again crying herself to sleep.

Chapter 19 Strong Stem Tender Flower

“Ginny…

“Ginny…

“Wake up…” he nudged her arm softly.

She gently opened her heavy eyes to welcome an unexpected image of Oliver’s blurry and unshaven face and his earring hovering not far away from her. Blinking very quickly, she immediately shot up from his bed as he retreated to avoid a collision. Her hair was completely disheveled but she didn’t push it away from her face because she wanted to use it to hide her flushed cheeks. She cast a nervous eye at Oliver, who had backed himself into a ray of sunlight, studying her apprehensively. It was dawn already, and to her horror, she had spent the entire night sleeping in his bed, in his quarters.

“Erm… before I apologize and explain… about my no show for the competition yesterday… can I ask… erm… why are you here… and how did you… get in… and… what are you doing in… my bed?” he sputtered, scratching his head. It was evident he too had just gotten up and was only marginally less confused than her at this moment.

He yawned jokingly before she could respond, “I know you fancy me and stuff, but can I ask that you… stop squishing my favorite pillow like that?”

He opened his arms jeeringly, only to have his favorite pillow smacked furiously across his face.

“Fancy this! You stupid git! I came because I was worried about you!”

She then proceeded to garble out words incoherently as they bubbled on her tongue.

“Oliver, you’re so seriously stupid. I thought something dreadful happened to you when you didn’t show, and Harry took your place and somehow he knew our routine and we won with Dumbledore’s tiebreaker, and I lost a shoe and almost died, and I came to check on you when I saw my jigsaw puzzle because I couldn’t sleep, and I was worried about you but the door was slammed shut because of the wind…”

He was nodding blankly, trying to comprehend her lightning words and wondering why the pitch of her voice was steadily climbing higher and higher, reminiscent of her mother’s shrieks.

“And the wind slammed the door and it was jammed and I didn’t have my wand with me, and I didn’t know where your wand is because your room is a mess and your window is too small for me to fly out with your broom, and I try to wake you but you were asleep like a zombie�”“

“All right! STOP! Whatever… the doorknob’s been faulty since the beginning of school year!” he interrupted her and rubbed his temple because she was starting to give him a headache, on top of the hangover from being drunk last night.

“Ginny… you still shouldn’t have slept so cozily in a guy’s bed like that,” he lectured brotherly. “Other boys would have taken advantage of you in the same situation. You’re lucky it was my bed you�”“

“What was I supposed to do? Sleep on the beer bottle floor? The door’s stuck and you were out like a dead pig! I could light firecrackers in your eyes and you still wouldn’t wake�”“

“Well, at least we weren’t in bed together,” he rolled his eyes and added sarcastically.

Ginny was so angry she crushed the parchment that was in her hand into a ball and threw it at him before remembering that it was his letter to Yuriko. His boyish sniggers were immediately silenced, replaced by heavy sadness as all of yesterday’s recklessness crashed into his head when he unfolded the crushed ball. He realized she had read his emotional letter and invaded his past. Ginny quickly hid her guilty hands behind her back when she noticed him staring angrily at them; he was furiously wondering what other pieces of his past did she take without permission.

“I want you to leave, please,” said Oliver frostily, feeling betrayed, but Ginny sat defiantly on his bed, glaring at him, seemingly daring him to kick her out.

“Ginny Weasley, please leave!” Oliver marched to the door but just like Ginny last night, he was unable to open it.

“BLOODY DOOR! WHERE THE HECK IS MY WRETCHED WAND?” he was cursing and tearing at his room madly as she sat motionlessly in his bed with her hands behind her, watching him vent out his anger at everything in his path.

He attacked his door again, panting and pulling it with all his might, “STUPID DOOR! WHY CAN’T IT… open… please…”

“Oliver…” Ginny pleaded apologetically when he cascaded down to his knees, along with his fading and cracking voice. It pained her to see him punish himself like this.

“Please… talk to me.”

He covered his scarred face helplessly with his trembling hands, “Ginny… I thought… we agreed… to stay clear of that part of our lives…”

“I’m sorry for reading the letter. It… was stuck at the doorframe… but… please… talk to me,” she begged again, hoping to get through his despair. “You’ll… feel better.”

Her hands were now fishing for something that was nestled in the sheets behind her and she closed her grip on it, “We’ll be stuck here… for the next little while anyway.”

“Not unless I find my wand!” he panted and scanned across his room, forgetting that he could summon it with a spell.

Just as he was about to propel uncontrollably again, he trampled over the pillow and fell to the floor.

“OLIVER!” Ginny shrieked, her eyes starting to tear up.

Lying helplessly on the floor, what used to be a vibrant and energetic Oliver was now a heap of shattered spirits. He really wanted to cry, but he was determined to not let Ginny see him cry. Desperately swallowing back his tears, he gradually calmed his boiling emotions as he pressed himself up. Wanting to hide his face, he turned his head down, picked up his pillow, and slowly dragged his feet to the window. As soon as he opened it, the noise from the wind chime and the metal ornaments once again ignited his quarters, drowning out the sniffing sounds he was trying to suppress. After staring despairingly at the ornaments, he graced his hand across one of them and some water splashed out.

“I think it’s only fair,” said Oliver, his voice trembling as he squeezed his pillow into his chest and buried his chin on the windy windowsill. “I owe you an explanation for my abandoning you yesterday.

“Ginny, this is… a rain chain. When it rains, it collects the water and it flows… cascades along the side… like a beautiful waterfall.

“Yuriko… says rain is good for me,” he muttered philosophically to the flower shaped funnel that was dangling outside, while at the same time, letting the northern winds dry up his tears. “She’s…always comparing me to a plant… a tree… maybe because of my name or something. When I introduced myself, she did a song about an olive wood tree.

“She likes analyzing things with nature… heavy things, like everything has a deep meaning for her…

“The waterfalls, falling leaves, every snowflake has a purpose… She once told me my eyes give her the lyrics for her songs.

“Her favorite topic is raindrops, water drops. She says love is like raindrops. There are no clean breakaways…” he graced his hand at the rain chain again, splashing more water out, “…because each drop of water has a lingering strand, a streak that follows it, as it falls to the ground. If you look closely and slowly, you’ll see it. I see it all the time.

“But… just like love, the more you look at it and analyze it, the more confusing it is.

“She says rainy days are only romantic and musical when she’s with me. Otherwise, it’s just another dull gloomy rainy day.”

Ginny couldn’t agree with that more. She would never forget the memorable birthday she shared with Harry last year at the Burrow, when the musical sounds of rain woke her up to find a pair of sparkling green stars watching over her. It was indeed romantic. In contrast, she found herself alone in her room during this year’s birthday; the rain that accompanied her lonesomeness this time was no longer romantic and musical.

“I asked her why she describes me as the stem of a rose… Now I know why. I think she wanted me to reply that she is like the rose on a stem or something. Of course I missed the boat on that one, as lyrical as I think I am.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and decided to let it pass. Oliver didn’t notice because he was still busy attending to the rain chain.

“We met in the quirkiest of ways. I was next to her in the elevator and a bunch of people that day. Suddenly there was a funny sound, and everyone turned to gape at her.

“She was very red… I… don’t know what I was thinking, but for some reason, I wanted to help her.

“So… I bravely apologized to the people, hoping they would think the offensive sound came from me and not her,” he laughed sadly, gazing at the rain chain that was dancing merrily with the drafty winds next to the wind chime.

“She was still very embarrassed but she… thanked me, for trying to help.


“I thought she was cute… and her accent… her way of calling my name… I think she does it on purpose though.”

Ginny giggled in the background, adjusting herself to sit on the precious item she had been holding on.

“The problem is she… doesn’t know anything about our wizard world,” he continued talking to the rain chain, “You know… magic and things like that… the whole time, I didn’t want to freak her out.

“But… I knew I had to tell her… when I found myself falling for her… and I knew she felt the same way about me… but I didn’t know how.

“One day I brought her to our Quidditch practices and introduced her to my teammates. I asked her to watch us play.

“Thinking back… that wasn’t a smart thing to do… It must be so overwhelming for her… a girl who likes to daydream about the depths of lingering raindrops… and to put her in a strange new world for the first time… seeing a bunch of people zooming around with their brooms chasing balls that have a mind of their own.

“It was a shock for me that she loves it… she was on her feet in awe… she was so impressed she wanted to attend all my matches… I thought she was just being nice… but she turned out to be crazier than most fans.

“I was the happiest man in the world when she asked me to take her up… and give her a ride… because it was then that I realized she would have no problem with me being a wizard… in a Quidditch team… she accepted me,” Oliver choked and clutched his stomach, apparently in pain.

“Oliver…”

“I’m okay,” he swallowed, clutching his pillow tightly.

“Before we knew it, we were getting serious… to the point that I wanted her to be my girl.

“She accepted after making me propose to her… in front of my teammates… on my knee. I should have known she’s into that sort of stuff,” he smiled despairingly.

“Her father wasn’t too excited initially… because you know… our cultural differences, but soon after, he says as long as Yuriko is happy.

“But… some things can’t be hidden forever. I forgot… I come from a different world than her. Yuriko and I both know her father would go ballistic if he finds out I’m a wizard. I was speechless when he asked me what I do for a living.

“To make a long story short, he forbade Yuriko from seeing me again… demanded her to return home immediately, as far away from me as possible.

“Thinking like a romance novel that I’m sure you read all the time, I said… we can escape, hide ourselves somewhere… anywhere… so no one will ever find us. The world is so big. I’m sure there must be a spot for us.

“It was such a foolish thing to say,” he sighed, with Ginny shaking her head in disagreement.

“I never felt so scared… I was scared of losing her, but I just said we’ll go home and pack, and we’ll meet at the train station and leave London… and go anywhere the train takes us.

“I waited for her… and waited. But… she never came… to the train station, because little did I know… she had already left London… gone back to her folks.

“I found myself unable to move on. When I play Quidditch, I keep searching for her in the stands… a part of me was holding on to a faint slip of hope that… she’s back, but another part of me was scared… of her being here.

“You must think I’m such a stupid fool, wasting myself away for a girl that just left me… but it was the lowest point in my life. I had to escape. I couldn’t compete anymore when my teammates were also walking on eggshells around me, so I made up a story about my injured back, excused myself from the team and just wanted… to run.

“Looking for a place to hide, at least temporarily, I thought of Hogwarts. It was perfect because my teammates… they will never figure to find me here. And… she doesn’t know anything about wizard schools… so I’ll never have to see her.

“But… her images continued to flood my mind when I was at the Burrow with you guys. Any silly little thing would remind me of her, like when George mentioned about Harry being stuck with a brat was like a pair of chopsticks… that made me think of all those times she tried to teach me how to use them.

“I could still feel her… hovering over me, gently holding my right hand,” he choked, biting his lip. “She was so patient and kind.

“I realized the only way I can stop grinding myself like this was by keeping busy. So… I occupied myself with the flying competition… and it was the best when Dumbledore allowed me to participate. I can tire myself to sleep instead of…

“Who would have known the papers will publicize a school event so much? My teammates, Evan and Daisy, found out where I am. Wanting to cheer me on, they visited me yesterday… and they… told me… about her.

“Seeing them and hearing about her was like having the rug pulled from under me. To find out that she looked for me… asked about me… wanted to know how I am… Everything that I was trying to forget… just came rushing back. I… was a mess… I couldn’t compete.

“I didn’t want to risk injuring you so I… just… ran… again… like… a coward.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” he closed his eyes and squeezed out the remaining scars of anguish that had not been dried up by the winds.

Ginny pulled his wand out from underneath her and got up from his bed, “I’m sorry too. I was sitting on it all along.”

“I know. A nosy girl like you will do anything to fish a story,” he wiped his eyes, took his wand and blasted the stubborn door open. “Unfortunately, this story is just one of those loser stories… about a guy that got dumped�”“

“I disagree,” she headed to the doorway, reached over to his cheeks, and wiped his tears. “You’re a man with a big loyal heart. Always remember that!”

“There’s a favor I want to ask�”“

“Don’t worry, Oliver. I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. I understand,” she slipped out of his room to the empty halls, knowing solemnly how and why she truly understood his suffering.

“Ginny, thanks for listening,” he called out to her sincerely. “And… I know you said you have enough brothers to last you ten lifetimes but if you need… one more brotherly shoulder to cry on, one that doesn't come with all the protective brotherly speeches… I’m ready to return the favor.”

She nodded appreciatively and headed back to the common room, but she wasn’t paying any attention to her gloomy steps along the way. Her mind was flooded with all kinds of thoughts, because Oliver’s story of heartbreak reminded her of her very own heartbreak so much. She believed she could sadly be the only one that best understood the pain he was going through.

As she approached the common room entrance, she could already hear Sam’s voice piercing through the portrait. It appeared she was nagging her mentor again. She stopped herself at the portrait, quickly reminding herself that she was going to put in her best efforts to get back with Harry in order to make him happy. Prepping herself to please him, she took a deep breath and rearranged her face to ensure she had the most pleasant of expressions, even though her heart was aching in anguish. Trying to forget about Oliver’s emotional letter and its resemblance to her paper plane, she flung the portrait open, prepared and ready to play the role of the actress in love with the leading actor.

Chapter 20 Rain Chain, Snowman, Gray Star, Angel Face

It was a very calm early morning at the castle and everyone, with the exception of four sleepless souls, was still in bed because of the competition that lasted well past midnight. As usual, Harry couldn’t sleep, so he decided he would lounge in the common room to enjoy the fireplace by himself and to organize his thoughts; after what happened last night, he reckoned he had a lot to think about.

For once, his sleeplessness was not due to his nightmares; he couldn’t sleep because of all the wonderful things that took place with Ginny merely hours ago. The perfect details of the competition, the coincidences of him wearing a dashing costume, the unlikelihood of his name appearing on the competitors’ list so he could perform with Ginny, the sensation of having her in his arms at various points of the night, the way they argued like a loving couple when they bowed, and the unusual pair of stars blinking at him at the end of the performance…

However, all of this were overshadowed by the earth-shattering kiss they shared in the common room as the night concluded. Ginny kissed him, he thought sweetly to himself, and it wasn’t a dream, even though it happened well past midnight. He was certain he didn’t imagine the kiss because the ones in his dreams were always longer and much deeper, and he would always find his arms tightly around her at the end. As pleasant as the image was for him, all the sweetness from the kiss quickly morphed into panic, because he simply didn’t know what to do next to further this relationship, if he could call it a relationship. One thing he would agree on was that he basically couldn’t describe what they shared last night, because it was so new for him.

Harry had expected the common room to be deserted because it was so early. However, his lips immediately curled disappointedly to the downside as he was marching down, because in the middle of the staircase was none other than the little silver haired rascal. He didn’t care to know why she was perched on the steps by herself, but she was definitely the last person he wanted to see. Still slightly upset at her, his mouth tightened sternly, because he would never forget all the things she did to him yesterday, from tricking him into wearing the costume and grabbing his backside intentionally in the process, to tearing off his glasses, threatening to toss them down the toilet, and making him chase her in the fields. He only took solace in the fact that all her nastiness somehow miraculously fell into place for him at the end.

Noticing her there, he wanted to sneak back upstairs because it was simply too early to have to deal with her madness. All he wished for was peace and quiet, so he could assemble his thoughts and figure out what to do next regarding Ginny; the last thing he needed was to have his ears be pounded with useless rubbish. Regrettably, she heard his creaking steps before he was able to do his u-turn, and as expected, she would pour out all her craziness onto him. Strangely, he could sense a slight degree of tiredness from her; her tantrums lacked the usual spunk, but her volume was still loud enough to burst his eardrums.

“Come on, Harry! It’s Hogsmeade day tomorrow! I really need to buy something for dream boy!” Sam nagged and tore at his arm feverishly.

“First years aren’t supposed to go--”

“That’s why I require your invisibility cloak, you dumb-dumb!” she raised the pitch of her voice by yet another octave and jabbed him in the chest.

Harry was trying to glue himself in his seat by the fireplace, madly wondering why his mentee was always yanking him around repeatedly like a rag doll. He was adamant he would not let her have her way this round, even though his eardrums were begging him to comply.

“How do you know about my cloak?” he cut in, trying fruitlessly to free his sore arm so he could cover both his ears.

“What about our early sunrise broom flying practices?” he continued, squeezing as many words as possible into the split second of silence she granted him. “You didn’t practice yesterday because you never showed up, that means we have to do it today and tomorrow to catch up…

“Do you want Oliver to give you a hard time again? You know, by the way, I forgot to ask you about your no show yesterday…”

She immediately blinked a glimmer out of her eyes, remembering that yesterday morning, she had been busy hiding in the North Tower to spy on Oliver’s whereabouts.

“Did you shove a cork down your throat, Sam? Why so quiet all of the sudden?” he peered at her, only to have his cheek meet her cold hand as she pushed his inquisitive eyes away.

“Oliver… says… I’m okay now,” she lied as she found herself running out of mean things to say to him.

“Thanks for… helping me, Harry… during these past few months,” she could hear herself mumble with her quivering voice as she blinked another glimmer out of her eyes.

“You can thank me by releasing your claws!” he frowned and gave his sore arm a helpless shake.

“Hi guys,” Ginny beamed radiantly and slowly strolled into the common room.

Harry delightedly rose to his feet, blushing heavily and his heart popping, as Sam smiled broadly and finally released her mentor.

“At ease! At ease, guys!” she laughed mildly, gesturing them to relax.

“You’re up early,” he sputtered, trying to lower his blood pressure. “I figured… after a long night yesterday you’ll… sleep in…”

She grinned warmly and inched closer to him, her arm brushing unwittingly against his, “I guess my biological clock is still used to those early sunrise practice sessions.”

Wanting to control the conversation so he wouldn’t ask where she was earlier, she remembered Sam’s earlier outburst and used it to her advantage.

“Is he bullying you? I… know a surefire way to get your mentor moving. He’ll do anything after this…” Ginny giggled slyly as she eyed Harry up and down.

A look of fear crept across Harry’s face as he took a few steps back. He had no idea what she had installed for him.

Suddenly, Ginny lunged at him and sank all ten fingers into his abdomen, and he immediately crashed into the sofa in roaring laughter as Sam took her cue and attacked him as well. All three were screaming hysterically as two pairs of hands were tickling him all over. Before they knew it, they had Harry pinned on the floor, begging helplessly for his life, at the mercy of two very aggressive girls. Crying out for help, he didn’t understand how they both seemingly were able to locate all his weak spots with such uncanny precision as they began to tear him apart.

In the midst of their craziness, suddenly Harry could hear his own voice echoing in their background of laughter.

”I think the hammock gave way and became undone! Are you okay?”

It was quickly followed by Ginny’s voice, also echoing distantly, followed by sounds of their laughter ricocheting from afar.

“Are you implying that I’ve gained a few pounds? Just for that, TAKE THIS!”

It was as if there was another couple laughing at each other not too far away, and they possessed the same voices as them. He knew it was impossible because there was no one in the common room other than the three of them. He was unable to check the origins of all these odd sounds because Ginny and Sam were still dismantling him.

“Stop it!” It was his voice again, but he swore he didn’t say anything because he was too busy laughing.

His own roaring voice was harmonizing itself with Ginny’s shrieks, and ringing in his ears at the same time were the same kinds of crazy voices from afar. Gradually, he somehow could feel a sense of familiarity emerging inside him. For some reason, he remembered he had heard this kind of thundering outburst from himself before. The vigorous tickling sensations were also too familiar to be normal. It was as if he had been like this with Ginny countless times before, and just like now, she would attack all his weak spots and he would be begging for his life as tears would rush out of his eyes. Coupled with the distant voices, the whole experience was becoming more eerie for him by the second.

Between all the chaos and confusion of bodies, he suddenly felt a nasty hand digging relentlessly through his pockets and grabbing him inappropriately. Short of breath and frantically covering himself to avoid embarrassment, he had no choice but to mount a fight, as gentlemanly as he could, against the two girls.

“WOE… SAM! STOP! TIME OUT! SAM! Didn’t… I… tell you…” he barked indignantly between his choking gasps of laughter as he covered his backside. “There are… some… places… your hands shouldn’t… be grabbing?”

“It wasn’t me! Honest! I swear, it was her!” she bounced away, hackling and pointing at a red-faced Ginny, who was squirming and shaking her head, trying to maintain her innocence.

Harry struggled to get up from the floor. He quickly straightened his glasses and tucked his shirt back in his pants. Looking at Sam disapprovingly, he couldn’t believe he was almost on his way to losing his pants. Judging from her nasty giggles however, he knew he was not going to win this battle.

“The invisibility cloak for tomorrow… OR ELSE!” Sam snarled between her chuckles, flashing her claws as Ginny smirked in the background.

Harry sighed dejectedly in disbelief; he had just allowed his own mentee to bully him once again. Just as he was about to head to his room to retrieve his cloak, Sam hopped across his path.

“I know where it is, Harry. You… just stay here. I’ll get it myself! See ya!” she glanced furtively at Ginny before zooming happily upstairs, leaving him extremely confused and pondering how she knew so much about him.

“Ginny, you know that wasn’t fair. Two against one,” complained Harry childishly, trying to flatten his hair as he glanced around the common room, searching for the origins of those strange voices, only to find no one other than the two of them.

“You sided with her against me,” he continued.

Ginny inched towards him and stroked his bangs, jolting Harry off his feet with her unexpected touch, because it was the first time she had been this close and this warm to him. In his mind, what she did to him earlier was entirely forgiven.

“Well, we girls always stick together, especially against men…

“And… it wasn’t Sam,” Ginny added wickedly.

Harry stared at her confusedly.

“That naughty hand… it was… mine,” she whispered teasingly and gave him a devilish eye, jolting him off his feet again as his cheeks were about to explode.

It was too good to be true. For a moment, Harry thought his heart was quivering so wildly it had propelled itself out of his body. The idea of having Ginny grabbing him in that intimate way was mind-boggling. Stepping up to the plate, he caressed her hand, convinced that his dream had finally become reality, and he was indeed the happiest man in Hogwarts. The debates and doubts in his mind suddenly fell silent, because it was confirmed by her smiling and receptive response to his caressing her hand; she was finally willing to be his girl.

“Ginny, how did you know… about…you know… that I’m ticklish… especially there and there?” he muttered, rubbing his belly to get rid of the soreness. Well aware that they were alone, he bumped up his courage and inched closer to her.

Ginny’s smile began to faint, because the words he just uttered would unknowingly trigger the memory of her trimming his hair in her room last year. Those were the exact words he said to her when she tickled him.

Quickly remembering her mission, she immediately restored her smile as Harry leaned closer to her, his arm sliding across her waist, pulling her in. As his face was slowly moving towards her, she closed her eyes and tilted her head; she was determined to let him kiss her.

“WAIT!” she suddenly banged Harry away very hard and he almost tumbled to the floor.

“Sorry, Harry! But I… just remember… I didn’t brush my teeth yet,” she swallowed, trying to suppress the streak of pain that had sliced her heart just as their lips barely met.

“Hmm, it doesn’t matter,” he whistled lightheartedly as he approached her again. “It’s because I haven’t brushed mine either.”

“Eeww… that’s… disgusting!” she escaped his arms and stormed towards the stairs, giggling in an exaggerated manner to make sure Harry witnessed her cheerfulness, even as her eyes were beginning to water.

Ginny was hoping she could reach her room before her tear ducts would give way. As she was dashing up the stairs, she unknowingly trampled over an invisible Sam. It turned out she had been hiding by the staircase with Harry’s cloak.

“Ginny, it’s me,” she pulled herself out. “I was… just testing the cloak… to see…”

Ginny was not about to stop and listen to her explanation, because her tears were threatening to gush out. She had to run.

“Sorry,” she choked and bolted around a very startled and apologetic Sam. Even though Harry’s delighted face was directly in front of her as he observed Ginny’s flying footsteps, she wasn’t impressed, because she knew something was wrong with Ginny. Blinking another twinkle out of her eyes, she knew her mission still hadn’t been completed. She realized she must go to Hogsmeade tomorrow.

***

The northern winds were a frequent nightly visitor at the North Tower, especially at the top floor. It was as if they knew a lonely guest resided up there, a man who was always spending his nights gazing out the window. The winds would keep him company and help dry his tears. The winds were also doing their part to ensure that his precious wind chime and rain chain would sing through the night for him, so he wouldn’t have to spend the night in silence, with only his hollow shadow by his side.

“Who would have known that… a final decision from you… one that you made for me… but one you made without me… would burden me for the rest of my life…” he muttered despairingly as he graced the rain chain tenderly, gently clearing the snow from this afternoon that was stuck on its delicate wings.

“As you once said, every snowflake has a purpose…” he steadily freed the fragile white sparkles from the rain chain. The beautiful frosty shapes waited by his window until they couldn’t linger anymore, so they said their final goodbyes to him.

“Every snowflake has a purpose,” he nodded to the departing white stars.

The snowflakes would swirl past the curvy moon and glittering stars, slowly and peacefully, until they joined the winds that were doing double duty tonight, because there was another lonely soul they needed to tend to, a snowman that was napping in a blanket of fresh snow from this afternoon just outside the castle entrance. Carefully, the winds escorted the dancing snowflakes to him.

“What’s this?” he rubbed his glasses and the scar on his forehead. He had just felt something cold landed on him.

The snowman couldn’t sleep under the weight of his convoluted thoughts, so he decided to venture out and admire the starry skies and the curvy moon celebrating across the horizons, reminiscent of the shapes he conjured at the performance. He rubbed his forehead again; he couldn’t help but think back to those familiar voices and laughter he heard this morning echoing from afar when she tickled him. These familiar sensations were oddly similar to too many incidents that had happened during the summer between the two of them: the ten second kiss by the staircase, the sensation of her in his arm when they were on his Firebolt.

”We’ve known each other before…” he recalled a voice of a little girl whispering this to him when he kissed her on the forehead for ten seconds. He simply didn’t know what to do or whom to turn to.

For some reason, the stars tonight were more vibrant than usual. It was as if they were coming together to form her face, if he were to connect them with a line.

“May I ask… who is the voice that accompanies you in your dreams every night?” he gazed solemnly at the patterned stars.

“Who’s there?” he turned his glistening eyes to one of the windows in the castle. He thought he saw a pair of twinkling stars blinking at him from there, the same pair that he had encountered before.

Of course it wasn’t a pair of stars. It was only a pair of gray eyes from a foolish girl, and she was admiring the snowman from a distance, just like she always did, watching over him, to make sure he was safe. They were twinkling because there were too many tears in front of them, just like they’ve always been, right from the beginning, when she met him as a human girl for the very first time at the feast.

“I’ll treasure all the times we spent together… our morning flying practices… our mentoring chit-chats… in my heart…”


She wasn’t prepared for the heartache that came from seeing him kissing his favorite girl this morning. Once again, she had forgotten to keep her human emotions in check. She was mad at herself, but it was too late. She had fallen deeply for him, and she couldn’t turn back, even though she knew it was a love that would never be reciprocated, because he belonged to someone else.

“Why… are you so nice to me?” she pleaded. “I insult you, hit you, yell at you… but you still… worry about me… and our flying practices…”

She headed to her bed and pulled out a box from underneath. The box contained the costume she made for him. He had returned it to her earlier today.

”I’m not sure… if I should thank you, but thanks anyway!” he muttered to her confusedly this morning when he returned the costume.

She carefully folded the blazer and placed it back in the box.

“You’re welcome,” she whimpered.

“You were absolutely perfect yesterday, my hero. I knew you would never let her down… I always knew the ending position would be her in your arms… I had it in my mind the entire time…” she sobbed to the box as she sank to the floor.

Unbeknownst to the lonely snowman, there was a second set of eyes watching over him. This pair came from the common room. They were brown but also glinting in tears, and their angelic owner was clutching his jacket, a jacket he gave her to keep her warm during their unforgettable picnic, just before he lost his memory.

“I’ll always give you my all. I promise you…” she cried to him. “But it’s just… now… I’m…”

She was supposed to share a beautiful deep kiss with him this morning, except she didn’t feel beautiful. Her gut was gnawing in anguish as soon as his lips touched hers. All she could think of was how many times the other girl had tasted those very tender lips. She had to come up with the excuse about her not having brushed her teeth in order to escape. After all, it was around this time last year he lost his memory of her.

“I’ll always love you… but… I’m just… not ready…”

She was worried if her snowman was cold, lying in the snow like that. She didn’t know he was in the snow because he was assembling the stars in the skies so he could visualize her image in the nightly sky.

“I think it’s time I return this to you,” she wept silently and slowly made her way down the castle with his jacket.

The stars finally organized themselves to his wishes. A deep smile graced his face as he remembered he had to do his nightly ritual, something he started doing at the beginning of the school year.

“Goodnight, Ginny, Pleasant dreams,” he whispered to the patterned stars.

“I love you…”

The snowman removed his glasses and closed his eyes because the stars were starting to dim away and everything became opaque. It was as if even they were tired and wanted to sleep because it was past their bedtimes. Rolling to the side, he let himself go and gradually fell asleep, only to wake up soon after, and find yet another familiar item close to him; this time it was a jacket, and it was draped over him. As he poked his head up, he noticed the castle gate was slowly creaking to a close, shielding a girl with an angel’s face, gently crumbling to the ground in her pool of pearls.


A/N: Chapter 19: When You Hold Me While I Cry of “When I See Only You” was the final interaction between Harry and Ginny before he lost his memory of her. The voices he heard in this chapter were from that picnic. I hope you’ll revisit that chapter as the story tackles the last of the four main characters, Harry, the boy next door.

Chapter 21 Spring Winds Grace Your Face

“Mistletoe!” It was Hermione’s shrill voice zapping through Harry’s ears. Opening his eyes, he suddenly discovered her looking teasingly at him from across the common room. She was lounging on a ladder and steadying all kinds of Christmas decorations in her arms. Curiously standing beside him by the common room staircase was a much younger looking Ginny. Her face appeared rounder and less bony but her cheeks were blushed like a summertime strawberry. He could hear Ron’s sniggers in the blurry background. Studying himself, he didn’t understand why he was wearing a cast across his arm.

“Guys, you don’t know what a mistletoe is? Look, Ron. Harry and Ginny are standing under it. That means they have to give each other a kiss. Come on Harry, give Ginny a kiss!”

Harry’s heart was fluttering feverishly as he slowly inched closer to Ginny, his mind debating frantically whether he should kiss her on the lips or on the forehead. His lips were screaming instinctively for her lips, but he was afraid of offending her, so he elected the more conservative choice, by changing his trajectory in the last second to kiss her as gentlemanly as he could on the forehead. Seeing this reminded him of the kiss they shared at the Burrow on her birthday, except the one at the Burrow extended over ten seconds, and it was much more intimate.

Examining the kiss intensely as they progressed, he could see himself pulling away to reveal a teary eyed Ginny, but the Harry in the image apparently did not notice her tears, because he was pretending to busy himself with the ornaments on the floor, at the same time trying to hide his embarrassment. Sadly, it was unmistakable she was clearly hurt. He had hurt her that evening. He now realized he had made the wrong choice. He could see her pain now. He wanted to apologize, but the illusions quickly fizzled under a blanket of smoke.

After the smoke cleared, another movie clip began to play itself, and again, it was the common room staircase, with him and Ginny, standing in an almost identical position to the last image under the mistletoe, except they were wearing only their robes and nothing else. She had her hand over his lips as she gazed deeply into his eyes and adjusted his glasses back on his face. He saw his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer when she stroked his bangs tenderly to the side. He could feel he really wanted to kiss her. Once again, she appeared much more younger than now.

Suddenly, he broke off their gaze and walked sharply away from her, with his back facing her coldly. Standing behind him, Ginny’s eyes were tearing up.

“I am sorry, Ginny. I…can’t…I…just can’t…Sorry,” he heard himself bark ruthlessly as he stormed upstairs, abandoning her, followed by a loud bang from his slamming the bedroom door shut. He had left Ginny by herself, and she was on the verge of cascading by the staircase under the mistletoe.

All he remembered from that night was he was determined to not permit himself to fall in love with her, because he was convinced that everyone who loved him would always suffer a terrible fate. Not knowing what to do, he rationalized that he must make her hate him, so he slammed his door as hard as he could, making sure she could hear him. Pain and anger ruptured his heart at the sight of her tears, because he had hurt her again. She might hate him at the end of all this but he hated himself more for being so cruel to her…

“Harry…

“……”

“Harry…” it was Sam’s voice.

“Uh? What?” he popped his teary eyes open to see Sam examining him closely, with his invisibility cloak folded tightly in her arms. He just realized he had unknowingly fallen asleep in the quiet common room. Shaking his head, he pointed his head to the staircase but no one was there. There was also no mistletoe at the top. It was just a dream, but one that was too real to be a dream.

With Ron and Hermione going off by themselves today, Harry had parked himself in the common room all morning by himself, anxiously waiting to catch a glimpse of Ginny. One part of him wanted to talk to her about his odd visions, but another part wanted to keep everything quiet, because he remembered Hermione telling him that hearing strange voices was bizarre even by wizardry standards. Admittedly, he didn’t want her to think he was insane, now that she was finally willing to be with him.

Harry was still struggling with everything that happened yesterday: the echoing voices, the feelings of déjà vu, and having his jacket mysteriously draped over him. As he was lying in the snow last night, he had the strangest fantasies. He thought he saw Ginny’s face hovering over him, but he was unsure whether it was actually Ginny or merely a reflection of the patterned stars. He heard himself wish her goodnight and pleasant dreams, and he told her he loved her. For some strange reason, a little voice was telling him that he ought to kiss her goodnight every night before bed, because he needed to assure himself she would wake up the next day.

Immediately after he wished her goodnight, her face faded away and he saw himself taking off his glasses and rolling to the side, only to find his jacket draped over him soon after. He was debating whether it was a dream or reality, but he had a profound sense of sadness after these visions last night.

Adding more confusion in his head were the visions he had just before Sam woke him up. Only this time they appeared more real and vivid than those of yesterday. It was as if they were real, and that the mistletoe incidents actually happened.

Harry had planned to go to Hogsmeade with Sam today, because he was afraid she would get lost, even though she kept reassuring him she would be all right going by herself. However, he was truly worried about her. Since yesterday, he noticed she was getting more pale and weak. The usual power behind her voice had disappeared, and she no longer hopped or bounced around him. He figured she might still be in pain after falling at the castle entrance when she made him chase her, but it was as if the life was being drained out of her.

“Harry, sorry for the wait,” uttered Sam. “I was with Ginny in her room.”

At the sound of Ginny’s name, he felt a real sense of guilt towards her for the visions of abandoning her under the mistletoe.

“We should wait for her then. Maybe she wants to go too,” Harry put on his jacket, the one that was draped around him yesterday.

“Harry, your jacket…” Sam’s eyes widened because she recognized it from last year, when Ginny had wore it the entire time in the hospital wing while tending to an unconscious Harry.

“Yes, it’s a jacket,” said Harry sarcastically. “A bit tight around the shoulders though.

“Sam, is everything okay?” he noticed she was staring at him.

“Erm… Ginny… I think she’s not coming…

“She’s… not feeling well,” said Sam tiredly. “I think it’s… just… a head cold. It’s been hectic these past few days… you know… with the competition… and she shouldn’t have worn a backless dress. It was… a December evening after all… and you took her up so high…”

Harry immediately straightened himself, twitching helplessly to storm upstairs, “Is she in her room? I want to see her! We should take her to the hospital wing!”

Sam pushed him back sadly, “She took her medicine and she’s…all drowsy… she’s asleep. Besides… you can’t… go to the girl’s dorm… unless…”

“Unless what?” asked Harry hopefully.

“Hold my hand,” suggested Sam, with a sudden surge of energy. “We’ll… synchronize our steps, one step at a time. As long as you’re escorted by a girl, I’m sure the stairs will not slip under your feet.”

Before he knew it, Sam grabbed his hand and they raced upstairs, carefully controlling their steps as they reached the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory. He could feel her hand was especially cold and lifeless today, compared to the countless times when her hands were all over him without his permission. However, he was too excited to ask about her coldness because to his pleasant surprise, the steps to the girls’ dorms did not flatten out with her standing on them with him, just like she predicted.

In his mind, Harry had never ventured to the girls’ quarters before. Admittedly, they were much nicer and smelled better than the boys’. His blood was boiling hot in boyish glee, thinking he was heading into forbidden territory to surprise his favorite girl with a visit.

“Sam, erm… why’re you doing this… for me?” asked Harry sheepishly but appreciatively as he matched her steps, letting her take the lead and trying desperately to tone down his exhilaration. Her steps were slow, and she was still limping slightly.

“I’m not blind. I know you fancy her,” Sam glanced at him, keeping her hand gripped tightly on his as she ignored the pain that was striking her heart. “Consider this returning your favor for all those morning broom practices. But look at your face now, Harry. You were a dead rock moments ago… but now you look like a spring chicken in heat!”

“I do not!” he pulled his face away from her view, blushing heavily, trying to undo his permanent deep grin.

Suddenly, Sam froze her steps and Harry was forced to turn his head to her, wondering why they were stopping, only to catch her eyes gazing at him.

“Harry, it’s nice to see you… truly smile again,” she said movingly.

“You know, Samantha Ryan… moments like this… when you’re docile and not grabbing me inappropriately or yanking me like a rag doll… you’re actually… okay… a pretty cool kid… like the little sister I wished I have...”

“Ginny’s alone… inside,” she interrupted him abruptly and yanked him to her doorway, trying helplessly to ignore his compliments and suppress her tidal wave of human emotions. “She told me… her roommates are all heading to Hogsmeade, so you… get to be alone with her.”

“Sam, what about you?” he suddenly remembered his promise to her when she mentioned Hogsmeade. “I thought you wanted to go too. But if I’m here…”

“Then I will go myself, as I originally planned,” she replied civilly with a couple of twinkles in her eyes. Her steep affections for him were once again threatening to unravel as she quickly let go of his hand.

“I can’t allow you to do that… to go unsupervised! I thought I was to come with you so you wouldn’t get lost or something. I have to make sure you’re safe. I’m your big brother! First years aren’t supposed to go. We’ll go next week. I promise I’ll come with--“

“All right, all right. We’ll… definitely go next week,” she nudged him to go inside so he wouldn’t notice her eyes that were watering heavily.

Sam couldn’t help but be moved by his care and kindness once again. She knew she had to lie to him about not going, because it was the only way to relieve his guilt of letting her down. Deep inside though, she realized she must go to Hogsmeade today. She had to go and buy something for him and Ginny, something that would allow them to always find each other no matter how far apart they were, and it had to be today, because there might not be a next week for her.

“I don’t… need you to worry about me, Harry. I… can take care of myself. Only worry about Ginny, okay? She’s the one with a cold! Her door is unlocked,” she reiterated in a motherly tone.

Harry continued to linger by the door because he was still thinking about Sam, “I promise you. We’ll go to Hogsmeade next week when your leg feels better. Just you and me! That’s the week just before Christmas exams… and… I’ll buy you anything you want… candy… silly girl stuff…”

Harry paused awkwardly because he noticed she suddenly covered her mouth and her body was trembling.

“Sam…”

Before he could complete his sentence, Sam lunged at him and squeezed him inside Ginny’s room.

After Harry tiptoed in, Sam immediately wrapped her throbbing hand on the doorknob to shut the door, leaving him no choice but to forget about her. Before she closed the door, she left a wide enough crack because she wanted to admire him for the last time, and to catch a final glimpse of the boy she loved dearly.

“Ginny, you are so right about me,” she cried silently to the crack. “Now… I understand why… you said I remind you of you this morning…

“You told me when you first met Harry… you were only eleven… like me… and you admired him from your room through the crack of your door… just like what I’m doing now…

“And… you will close the door… as soon as you’ll catch him looking at you with his sparkling green eyes…”

Just when Harry was seemingly poking his head to the door, checking for Sam, she abruptly closed it, effectively separating her from him, perhaps forever, she thought despairingly to herself.

“Please take care of each other,” she whimpered tearfully, her shoulders heaved with sobs as she unwound her cloak to reveal a pale blue box tucked underneath. It was Harry’s birthday present to Ginny and it was still unopened.

“Harry, you’re smiling again… I finally get to see you truly smile again. That means… it’s time for me to go…

“I’ll never forget what you’ve given me these past few months… because of you I was able to feel… experience… all the human emotions… the joy… and pain of love… the sweetness, sourness, spiciness, and bitterness, exactly as how Dumbledore described to Ginny about love.

“I am lucky... and proud... to be chosen to have love grace my life… and that it was you, Harry Potter… who I fell in love with…” she grinned satisfyingly behind her tears.

“I’ll miss you…” she covered herself with the cloak and quickly limped to the Hogsmeade gathering spot, preserving the little energy she had left by letting go of her tears, allowing them to flood her face freely underneath the cloak.

“See ya…”

A/N: Harry’s visions in this chapter are found in chapters 1, 2, and 6 of story 1. These visions allow me to write about the two mistletoe scenes from Harry’s perspective and clarify why he did what he did. Dumbledore’s description to Ginny about love is found in the conclusion of story 2. At the time, Sam is in the form of a dove statue, hidden safely in Dumbledore’s sleeve.

Chapter 22 A Cradled Figment Of Imagination?

Harry would never forget his last private visit to Ginny’s bedroom at the Burrow, when he sat in her bed and she comforted him about receiving the letter telling him he was selected as mentor. After thinking thoroughly though, he figured he wasn’t really alone with her that night, because Hedwig was with them, so he could not classify that visit as anything special. This time was different, thanks to Samantha’s scheme with the stairs. They would definitely be alone, with no shrieks from Mrs. Weasley, no unwelcome visits from Hermione, and no letters from Hedwig. With the castle deserted as practically everyone was at Hogsmeade, he felt like they were by themselves, standing on top of the world.

He had never ventured to her quarters at the castle, and his heart was pounding so madly it was about to burst, because of the overwhelming excitement, knowing his presence might surprise her so much she could bounce off her bed in glee and embrace him wildly. Alternatively, she could be looking and feeling at her worst, and she could be so offended with his uninvited invasion she would take her frustration out on him and curse him senseless. Nevertheless, he didn’t care that the latter outcome was more likely than the former, because he truly wanted to see her; he just wanted to hold her, to ensure she was all right.

The curtains in her room were sealed, blocking out the winter sun. Even though the room was dark, it felt very peaceful. As he glanced around her room, he noticed some bouquets of red roses from the competition lying on the floor. There were two unmade beds on the opposite end of the room, littered with stuffed animals belonging to Ginny’s roommates. Oliver’s jigsaw puzzle was on her dresser, and it was near completion but for three gaping holes. There were a paper plane, a small grandfather clock, a picture frame, and a red medicine bottle next to it.

He unfolded the plane and suppressed his laugh when he noticed hideous sketches on its wing, “Oh my goodness! I didn’t know Snape is into these kinds of… activities!”

Ginny’s bed, next to the dresser, had nothing but a feathery dream catcher hanging directly above it. Angeline’s Café was indeed captivating, he thought to himself as he examined the gorgeous puzzle.

Seeing the puzzle reminded Harry of what was in his pocket today. He had carried with him one of the puzzle pieces in his pocket, intending to search for an opportunity to sneak it back to her without her knowing he was the culprit. He felt bad for walking away with it, knowing she cared about its completion very much. However, noting that she was missing two other pieces, the guilt lessened somewhat, since his contribution would not solve her problem. Admittedly, he withheld it that day because of his jealousy of Oliver; deep down he didn’t want her to complete it.

All the resentment he harbored for Oliver had since dissipated after the competition, when Ginny surprised him with a deep kiss by the staircase, followed by her tickling him intimately the next morning. Now that Ginny was willing to be his girl, he was no longer threatened by Oliver’s presence. In addition, he knew Oliver would not abandon her in the competition like that if he truly cared about her. To Harry, it was clear there was nothing between them.

Next to the puzzle was a dynamic picture of the two of them from the competition. Chuckling sweetly, he picked up the frame, because of all the glamorous images she could choose from that evening, she had to select this awkward photo to display, an embarrassing image of him embracing her in his arms, with one of her bare feet dangling from her missing a shoe. However, as he studied the picture attentively, he stopped his sneers. Instead, a deep smile occupied his face and a fuzzy feeling melted his heart. He was moved by the way she was hugging him in the picture, with her face snuggling endearingly in his chest, and him smiling brightly, watching over her. Samantha was right, he thought to himself. He was smiling again. He now understood Ginny’s reason for selecting this picture; he would have selected the same one himself.

“Ginny… Ginny. It’s me. Harry,” he removed a rose from one of the bouquets and murmured to her. Snickering boyishly as he tiptoed closer to her bedside, he couldn’t help himself as he teased her cheeks and her neck with the rose; he wanted to get back at her for the horrific way she tickled him yesterday, and for arming Samantha with such a powerful weapon against him. He could now foresee how this could easily escalate terribly for him for the rest of the school year, by giving his crazy mentee more excuses to grab him inappropriately when she wanted something. Quickly suppressing the childish boy in him, he gradually stopped his playful ways. She was obviously very ill and in deep sleep. In his mind, she could do no wrong. He would never be upset at her, because he simply loved her too much.

He set aside the rose and mindfully pulled her blanket up to her chin to ensure she was warm. As he was fixing her blanket, his lips would end up being merely inches away from hers. Even though her eyes were closed, she was unknowingly drawing him in. He unquestionably wanted to kiss her badly, but he refused to let himself take advantage of her like this. Despite having absolute control over his lips, his yearning eyes, with a mind of their own, broke free of his control, and they roamed her face freely as they became spellbound by every inch of her delicate features, painting her in his mind like a paintbrush on a canvas.

In fact, he was so close to her now he could now feel and hear her warm shallow breaths. Judging from the stuffy sounds, her nose must be blocked, he mused to himself. As he continued to gaze at her, he was inadvertently comparing what was in front of his eyes now to his visions of her with the mistletoe earlier. The thinness of her cheeks, bony jaw line, and loss of color in her lips were evident, compared to his visions of the little girl with the hot round red bubbly cheeks. At first, he attributed these differences to her being ill, but he could not deny the loss of girlish innocence behind the lines and the narrowness of her face. He had never gazed at her so closely before, but it had just occurred to him she had seemingly aged very much this past year, he thought to himself as his heart ached sorely.

He pondered about what used to be her hearty giggles when he first met her. It was the same with her brown eyes. When they met for the first time, she employed her sparkling brown eyes to peek at him through her door at the Burrow, but they had become opaque now. Her spunky presence when she dug her elbow into the butter dish was also no more.

In the midst of his concentration, Harry could suddenly hear faint voices again.

”Ginny, Ginny. It’s me, Harry. Wake up. Please talk to me… Ron, Hermione, come quick! Something is wrong with Ginny! She’s not waking up!” It was his voice, except the tone sounded very urgent.

Harry was no longer startled with this. In fact, he was growing very tired of these untimely intrusions; they always surface in all the wrong times and all of them somehow mysteriously involved Ginny in one way or another. After taking a few steps back in confusion, the dream catcher hanging above her bed entered into his view again, and the sense of familiarity fell upon him. Seeing her in her bed and the dream catcher hanging over her was somehow an image he had witnessed before.

“I’ve been here in this room before… but… when… and why?” he registered blankly, his eyes darting between the dream catcher and Ginny as sweat buttered his forehead. He took a deep breath, steadied himself and carefully approached her. Determined to not let these voices ruin his happy mood, he ignored them and squished them to the back of his head, along with the others he had recently.

Feeling very warm, he set the picture frame on her bed, removed his jacket and draped it on her, “No wonder you have a cold, Gin. Your blanket is thinner than parchment.”

Immediately after he covered her with his jacket, his head began to seethe in pain, as if something smashed itself against the back of his head. Whipping around to check the source of his agony, he accidentally knocked the picture frame to the ground. Thankfully, the noise from the tumble did not wake Ginny up, and the frame appeared to be not broken, but their picture fell out of it. He quickly gathered them up. As he was about to insert the picture back, he noticed another photo was already in the frame. This photo was hidden behind the picture of the competition, and it was him and Ginny, except he could not remember when it was taken.

Harry noticed this picture was in complete contrast to the one taken at the competition. Ginny’s eyes were sparkling at him as she hovered closely behind him, with her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling happily against his head. She had the same youthful look as in his visions of her under the mistletoe. He, on the contrary, had a strained grin in the image, looking very indifferent and somber, and he appeared to be pulling away.

The screeching pain continued to claw at his head as he hastily assembled the frame and set it back on her dresser. He was clenching his teeth to suppress his urge to scream, because he was afraid of startling Ginny, but suddenly, his vision was no longer under his control, and in a split second, her bed transformed itself into a hammock in front of his eyes. She was resting in it with a rose in her hand.

Sunlight seared into her dark room despite the closed curtains, and he found himself standing in a bright background of grass surrounding a beautiful cool lakeside. To his horror, all the objects in the room, the dresser, the neighboring beds, and the paper plane, were swirling dizzyingly and everything became blurry and opaque. Sensing something was wrong, he dug for his wand, only to discover a quill was in his hand, along with a handful of parchment, when he pulled his hand out. Looking desperately in all directions, he found himself detaching out of her room and gliding into the sunny lakeside background. Wind was traveling through his messy locks. It was a place he had certainly visited before, a scene that was too painful to forget, an emotion that was nothing but profound sadness and unfathomable remorse, and a memory that was finally gluing itself together…

“……”

“Dumbledore always says I am brave for my age, then why don’t I have the courage to confess the truth?” Harry stared into the beautiful sky as he mumbled hopelessly to himself, sitting on the warm grass with his back facing Ginny.

Harry took out a quill and started to express his apologies on the parchment. He was unable to voice it; his courage continued to fail him.

He stared at the parchment with a longing look on his face as his eyes began to tear up, worrying about the pain Ginny would have to endure as a result of what he did. Rereading what he wrote again and again, he was certain she would leave him.

She deserved someone better, he thought to himself despairingly, because what he did was despicable. He slowly folded the parchment into a paper plane and launched it into the sky. The plane flew steadily towards the lake. After watching it disappear, he continued writing his messages with the rest of the parchment.

He launched the paper planes dejectedly toward the lake, sniffing back tears and watching them stoically as they disappeared into the horizons, desperately hoping that his wishes would come true, that she would not leave him.

“AARGH…” It was Ginny’s voice when she fell off the hammock and tumbled into him, sending his parchment into the gentle breeze. They were floating like autumn leaves falling from their trees…

”BANGGGG!”

“……”
Ginny immediately unsealed her eyes when she heard her door being slammed shut, only to discover that she was on the floor next to her bed, entangled by her blanket and oddly, a boy’s jacket. Rubbing her eyes feverishly, she realized she had accidentally tumbled out of her bed in the midst of her dream about the picnic by the lakeside with Harry. As she was about to reach for the tangled mess in the dark, she discovered a piece of a jigsaw puzzle was in her palm. Staring at it peculiarly, she was wondering why she had it in her palm. She pressed herself up and turned on the light, illuminating the jacket on the floor. To her surprise, it was Harry’s jacket. It was the one she gave back to him yesterday night. She looked around her room desperately, searching for him, but all she could see were empty walls. Coughing severely, she quickly opened her closet, hoping he was hiding inside, but to her disappointment, he was not there.

“Harry?” she waved her arms into the air, believing he was hiding underneath his invisibility cloak, but again, she couldn’t touch him. It could not be a dream; he had been here with her. He came and covered her with his jacket. He had once again offered his jacket to her, just like the time at the picnic.

She walked out of her room, peering at every angle of the deserted hallway.

“Harry?” she cried to the empty halls, but there was no answer.

Disappointed, she trudged inside and slowly made her way to the dresser, putting the piece of puzzle into one of the gaping holes, only to realize that it was a new piece she believed she had misplaced. Looking at the unfinished portrait, it was now only missing two pieces.

Too groggy and too tired to search for the truth, she picked up his jacket and cradled it, her eyes shifting emotionally to the picture frame of the two of them on the dresser.

“Harry…”

***

Harry was sitting by the lakeside next to his bike in a blanket of snow, gripping a handful of crumbled parchment and the memorable paper plane Hedwig delivered to him last year. Seeing the plane on Ginny’s dresser reminded him of that mysterious heart-wrenching story:

“Again last night,
Alone without you.
To the moonlight,
I made a wish.
That one night,
I rewrite our story.

Turn back time,
To days we hold hands,
Journey side by side,
Under sparkling stars,
That took turns,
Shining on us.

Remember that night?
You and I,
It was paradise.

Please lead me the way.
Guide me with your hand.
So I can be by your side.

Please come back to me.
Please try. Come back.
So I…”

As expected, the impact of every single syllable was thumping at him harshly just like all the previous times he read it. He was certain the blotches of smudged ink were from the writer’s tears. He had kept it with him because in a small corner of his mind, he knew there had to be a reason Hedwig brought it to him, and that he was the intended recipient of such a sad message, because otherwise, she would not have delivered it to him so eagerly that night.

At the time, he never figured out whose handwriting it belonged to, but as he was rereading the passages now, he knew. He could not deny their similarities with Ginny’s handwriting style he saw on the competitors’ list in the common room, the way she carved her name and Oliver’s name on it. Because he was so angry when he gaped at the list that night, every twist and turn of her soulful cursive writing and the flickering plus sign were burned like an imprint in his heart. With the plane on her dresser, the photo hidden behind the frame, and all the visions he had, there was no doubt in his mind it was Ginny who wrote this painful message.

Everything that happened between him and Ginny began to make sense, her frigidness and indifference toward him this summer, the way his apologies angered her, and her emotional reaction after the broken doves. He could still remember the day in the common room three months ago, when he spoke to Ginny about his first mentor meeting with Samantha. He had believed Ginny was stressed out about Oliver, the same way Ron was stressed about Hermione. He now realized she wasn’t thinking about Oliver at all. She was thinking about him. He had unwittingly punished her severely by telling her he was never in love with anyone before.

All of his visions were real. All of her tears were real. The one who hurt her was him. He was the reason she aged so much this past year. He could not hate himself more at this moment.

He glanced at the last passage. He remembered writing it to complete the story:

“I will always be by your side...”

“How can I be by your side when I can no longer look you in the eye?” he cried.

“The pain you suffered this past year… it was because of me…” he growled tearfully, carefully putting the soggy parchment back in his pocket. Without the doves, this smudged parchment would be the only thing he had that was hers.

“But you are still… so kind to me… so nice to me… all of you… Ron… Hermione…”

The bike ride to the lakeside was a bumpy one, just like he remembered, when he brought Ginny here to have a picnic.

“It’s a bicycle? A common recreational vehicle in the Muggle world?” he recalled Ginny asking him when he pulled her to the back of the castle towards a pile of hay.

He came wanting to retrace the steps of his visions. Even though the layer of snow had covered the green grass, he could still recognize all the details, the tree where he set up his hammock, the bushes he used to hide his picnic basket, and the blue lake to which he sent all his message-filled paper planes. He could not deny it. That picnic with Ginny did take place. The broken hammock was still lying on the grass under the snow. He planned the picnic because he wanted to confess his betrayal to her and to apologize, but his courage failed him that day, because he was afraid of losing her. Without her, his life would have no purpose.

His head was throbbing in pain from remorse and from the punishing weight of all these hurtful memories, but the pain was nothing compared to the anguish in his heart. The idea of him putting her through this ordeal was simply unimaginable.

He flipped through the pieces of parchment in his grips and read the messages he scribbled while he was in Ginny’s room earlier, when all the memories rushed back to him. He realized those were the exact words he wrote last year:

“Please forgive me for everything that I did. I’m so sorry. Truly sorry. Love, Harry.”

“I hope we’ll always be together. Always. Love, Harry.”

“I’ll die without you! Please don’t leave me! Love, Harry.”

“Please tell me what to do to heal your pain! Love, Harry.”

“I am sorry. Love, Harry.”

Exactly as he did last year, he proceeded to fold these newly written messages into paper planes and send them to the lake.

After watching the planes disappear, he tossed the leftover parchment into the air, simulating the moment when she tumbled into him after she fell off the hammock. Just like last year, they were floating in the air like autumn leaves falling from their trees.

“Ginny, I’m sorry…” he cried to the floating parchment traveling towards the lake. There was no answer.

“I’M SORRY…” he screamed louder, but the only thing that came back was his solemn echoes of his own voice.

“I’M -- SO SORRRRYYY…!!!” he lunged forward and roared as loud as he could, but he knew she couldn’t hear him. He could never undo her pain.

He closed his eyes and collapsed into the cold snow when he found himself in the same spot where they shared their final heartfelt embrace together. He could do nothing except for gripping helplessly at the snow. Only his snowy footsteps and his unstable shadow remained to accompany his loneliness.

”Ginny, you deserve someone better, because… what I did…

“I… don’t deserve you…

“Goodbye, Ginny…

“I am truly sorry…”

In harmony with his cries, he could hear sounds of chirping from afar. He opened his eyes and turned his head up, his winter tears spilling all over his cold cheeks. His vision was very hazy because his watery eyelashes had smudged his glasses, but he could make out a faint image of a white bird that was perched quietly on a tree, watching his sorrow next to a ray of sunlight.

Chapter 23 Wishful Thinking

Harry felt like he had sprinted across miles and miles of brutal tidal waters. His clothes were soggy from all the lingering snow, when he collapsed into it earlier. On his journey back to the castle, he had purposely delayed his remorseful bike pedals, because he simply didn’t know how he could ever talk to his friends again. Unfortunately, the inevitable must be met, and he would have to face the music.

Exhausted with his head down and not knowing how he was going to confront Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, he was unmindful of his unusual companion, a white bird he spotted earlier that had been following him in the skies. As he hurled his bike across the fields in frustration, it landed right at someone’s feet. Poking his head up and ready to apologize, he realized the stranger was Dumbledore, who suddenly appeared in front of him, and his demeanor was just as exhausted.

It had been awhile since the last time Harry had spoken to Dumbledore. A streak of anger erupted inside his veins; he was mad for his lying to him about the cause of his comatose condition last year. At the sight of his elongated beard, he was wondering mockingly what else was hidden underneath the white rug, and whether he was using it to conceal more facts from him, thinking he was too young to handle reality, just like the many other significant incidents affecting his life.

On the other hand, seeing him slouching and seemingly having aged significantly with his drained downcast eyes, he refrained his fury. Admittedly, he could not blame Dumbledore or anyone else for his reckless actions last year. His mistakes were his own.

Dumbledore maneuvered around the twisted bicycle and stretched out his arm wearily, apparently wanting him to come closer, because Harry deliberately put a lot of distance between them.

“Harry, please come with me to my office,” he muttered heavily with a dithering voice as he pulled his head down. “And… it’s not because of you launching a bicycle at me. It’s… Miss Ryan.

“She’s �“ Sam’s in -- St. Mungo’s Hospital…” Dumbledore handed him a cloak somberly. It was his invisibility cloak.

Harry thought his spine had been snapped in two pieces. Judging from the seriousness and grimness of his tone, something terrible must have happened. No words were coming out of his mouth because a bubble of air was jammed in his throat from all the crying earlier, but his eyes were blazing with fear and guilt as he found himself being steered hastily by Dumbledore’s lethargic arm towards the castle. For Harry, having to hear about his friends and loved ones getting hurt was particularly harsh, because he always wondered guiltily if he was the reason for their sufferings. He didn’t have many loved ones in his life to begin with, and often times he would rationalize this was actually for the better, since he was still convinced that people whom he treasured would consistently suffer a terrible fate at the end.

Harry had suspected his mentee was ill but because he was busy in glee over Ginny, he never showed any concern or bothered to mention it to anyone. His guilt compounded after seeing the cloak; he understood she must have headed to Hogsmeade by herself with it.

Before they reached the entrance, Harry stumbled out of Dumbledore’s arm sharply and cut in front of his hurried path when his guilt finally burst the bubble in his throat, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH HER?”

“I’ll explain everything afterwards, but right now… it’s important that you go see her,” Dumbledore placed both hands on his shoulders and guided him forward urgently. “We’ll use the portkey in my office.”

Moving unwillingly, Harry continued to swallow his rage that was threatening to spit itself out as they marched inside. At this juncture, he didn’t know what he should be feeling. His remorse towards Ginny, his guilt towards Samantha, his anger at Dumbledore for all the persistent cover-ups and treating him like a child, and his ultimate hatred for himself were all entangling mulishly in his mind, fighting their way to his twitching lips, wanting to be voiced, seeking to be heard, and striving to be resolved. But too many things had happened these past few days: the roller-coaster ride of emotions, the punishing return of his painful memories… he was suffocating and simply couldn’t make sense of them all. As usual, he stubbornly locked all these competing emotions inside his gut.

Sensing Dumbledore’s grip tightening on his shoulders and judging from his bleak expressions, he realized the urgency of Samantha’s condition. Now was not the time to fight him, he thought to himself. Quickening his steps, he was determined that at this moment, Samantha’s well-being had to be his first priority. He would once again place someone else’s interests ahead of his own, and the anguish about his memory recovery and Dumbledore’s role in it would have to be pushed to the background.

The last time Harry visited St. Mungo’s Hospital was a scene of horror, when Dumbledore dueled with Voldemort, leaving behind destruction beyond belief. He could not believe he was standing in the same hospital. It was as if that battle never happened. Everything had been restored, and the decor was enhanced with beautiful Christmas decorations. Harry had forgotten Christmas was fast approaching, but the decorations certainly could not lift up the Christmas spirits, based on the children’s long faces. Curiously, as he marched along, he noticed there were many distressed looking children roaming in the corridors.

“Professor, why are so many children in the hospital?”

“Harry, they are children of wizards and witches. We decided to keep them here on a temporary basis because…” Dumbledore paused tentatively, contemplating whether he should alarm him with the truth.

“It has something to do with Voldemort, doesn’t it?” Harry jumped in impatiently before Dumbledore was able to make up his mind.

“There have been a few kidnappings -- tactics used by Deatheaters -- to coerce wizards and witches to join Voldemort,” he replied sparingly to Harry’s irritated expressions. “Deatheaters have resorted to kidnapping defenseless children, holding them hostage, using love and kinship as weapons...

“By grouping them here, we can ensure their collective safety by concentrating all our security efforts to one location… at least on a temporary basis.

“But we must think of a more permanent solution…” Dumbledore smoked off his words when his eyes caught Harry’s hands, which were in balls of fists.

“Harry, I hesitated to tell you this because I don’t want you to get involved. Let the Order handle this.”

Suddenly, a door ahead of them slammed open as two healers marched out, shaking their heads.

“That’s the ward Sam is staying at,” Dumbledore sighed despairingly.

“Professor, before I go, please tell me what is wrong with Samantha.”

“A Hogsmeade storekeeper… saw her…”

He leaned closer, “Saw her what?”

“Faint…” he answered vaguely.

Harry covered his face that was immersed in shame, “I should not have lent her the invisibility cloak! She wouldn’t have gone by herself if she didn’t have it! I was too obsessed with going to Ginny’s quarters--”

“Harry, it’s not your fault. This was inevitable. Her condition…”

He cocked his head at Dumbledore piercingly.

“Sam… I’m afraid… she’s going to leave us…”

It was like every fiber in Harry’s body suddenly short-circuited from utter shock. All he could do was to stare at Dumbledore penetratingly, who had a twinkle in his weary eyes.

“Please go in and see her. I’ll… wait here and… explain everything later,” Dumbledore gently nudged him on the shoulder.

Too stunned to think, Harry could visualize himself approaching the door gravely, and every step felt more surreal than the last, as if his feet belonged to someone else. As he arrived at the doorway, he peered timidly through the glass to discover the hospital ward was empty but for one tiny patient with gray hair, lying helplessly in her bed. To his horror, it was Samantha. He had never seen her like this before, so vulnerable and fragile. This was the same girl, who just earlier in the day had schemed to help sneak him into Ginny’s room. An icy chill swam through his body; it pained him to see that her silver hair had lost all their shine, and her cheeks were whiter than her bed sheets.

Harry had forgotten how brittle and tiny she actually was. Looking at her from afar, he realized her menacing presence, daring behavior, and shrieking voice had been overshadowing her physical smallness in his mind all this time. In contrast, the little girl in front of his eyes had lost all of her authority; she was simply lying desolately in the hospital bed, and she appeared to be crying.

He could recall how much he disliked her at the beginning, calling her a brat, a chatterbox, and dismissing her and everything that came out of her mouth. However, as the months went by, he grew to like her as the little sister he never had. She was no longer just his mentee. After the completion of their mentoring assignments at the end of the school year, he was positive he would continue his friendship with her and to look out for her like a big brother. He would love to have her become a part of his circle of friends. He cared about her.

Just as Harry was about to open the door, he noticed a recognizable snowy owl was perched next to her, clutching a very familiar pale blue box. It was Hedwig.

“Hedwig, please bring this box to… Ginny’s room,” muttered Samantha somberly, securing the box onto her claw. “I won’t make it out of here so you’re… the only one that can do this for them…

“Just remember to check before going in… because…” she continued, “Harry might… still be… in Ginny’s room as we speak, so you may have to wait a little while… I don’t want you… to intrude on them.”

Hedwig gazed at her sympathetically, lingering in her bed, seemingly refusing to leave her.

“No need to be sad. You and I both care about Harry very much. We both know Harry’s happiness resides in Ginny and only Ginny. I still remember how you uncovered Ginny’s paper plane last year and when Harry asked you who wrote the poem, you didn’t know how to tell him so you brushed your wing at me.”

She stroked her feathers solemnly, “We must help him find her back. It’s just that at this point I can no longer be of service to him. There are some things that can’t be controlled… my feelings for him…”

Her words were interrupted by a severe cough. After panting choppily, she continued, “Hedwig, when this is over, Harry’s life will be so much better, and you’ll be a part of his happiness. I’m sure everything will work out for the best for all of you.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about me. After I leave, my heartache should stop. When I wake up tomorrow, I’ll be in a different world… my cries for him will stop… when he’s too far away for me to cry for.

“This is my only path. When my feelings for him are no more, my suffering will be gone too. No one will ever know about what happened to me except you and Dumbledore…”

Hedwig continued to linger on her bed and she let out a disapproving hooting sound, apparently in deep disagreement with something she said. Lying in her heap of hopelessness, Samantha ignored her objections. Instead, she chose to walk down memory lane for the sake of reliving her times with him.

“WOE…WOE…” Harry squirmed, covering his backside with his hands. “Sam, there’re certain places your hands shouldn’t go--”

“Get real, Harry! I was just trying to straighten out the tail! Perfect!”

Samantha smiled tearfully, thinking back to the time when she tricked him into wearing the costume she secretly made for him. She remembered how she relied heavily on her jokes and insults to hide her true feelings for him until she ran out of mean things to say. All this time, she would dodge his sparkling gaze, fearing he could detect her feelings she was trying to mask behind her twinkling gray eyes.

“Sam, your hair’s longer now,” Harry smiled melodiously. “I think you look cute with long hair. That buzz cut was… freaky. Maybe that thick boy of yours you keep telling me about will notice you now.”

Her smile broadened; she was satisfied the thick boy did at least notice her at one point. At that brief moment, she did fantasize about the impossible, about being with him together, but the dream ended before it started. Shortly after he complimented her appearance, Ginny rightfully took back the spotlight when she marched downstairs looking as beautiful as ever, and Samantha quickly and voluntarily returned to the background of unimportance.

She learned that love is cruel and it can make people do foolish things. Just like her, she would succumb to the spell and she found herself doing everything to help Harry, despite knowing she would get nothing in return and was destined to play the role of his annoying little sister. Nevertheless, she had no regrets. She didn’t regret all the things that had happened, her actions and her sacrifices. In fact, she was grateful to him, for allowing her to experience these captivating human feelings. These past three months had been her best times of her abbreviated existence.

“Hedwig, take care of Harry, okay?” she pleaded and nudged her to move along.

After Samantha kissed her visitor softly on the feathery head, they gazed to their final goodbyes before Hedwig flew out of the open window with the box. Watching the owl disappear into the sunset, her last visitor was gone, she thought to herself. She could close her withering eyes and let all her tears flicker her face and body away. She would forfeit her last chance to admire her final sunset, because it was just not as enchanting without him to enjoy it with.

“Harry, it’s such a gorgeous sunset! A bit windy though! Promise me you’ll… stay here and… enjoy it for a while! See ya!” she could still remember the evening when she dragged him to the bushes to watch Ginny and Oliver practice on the eve of the competition.

Even though she could hear the sound of the opening door and incoming footsteps, she kept her eyes closed. She knew it wasn’t relevant to her anymore, knowing she would have no more visitors. The visitor she really wanted to see was currently happily enjoying himself in the room of his favorite girl alone. She was wondering hopefully what they were presently doing.

“Harry must be insisting on a kiss, but Ginny is refusing him because she doesn’t want to give him a cold, so they are bickering about it,” she joked to herself.

She was convinced she possessed no regrets and she had left absolutely nothing behind, so she could embark on her journey with no need of turning back, but if only she could see him just one more time, touch his true smile, and hear his voice call out her name once again…

”Samantha…”

“Samantha…”

Chapter 24 Time... Stand Still For Me


“You rushed in to see me,

in my parting minutes,

before I was set to go.

Kind and generous of you,

You were as always,

at your best to me.



Your genuine heart,

boyish smile,

tender touch.

What can I say, but…

My only path is letting go.

A journey to the brutal cold.



When you cradle me in your arms,

you seem to be telling my shadow,

you don’t want to see me go.

I say it cannot be so.



I never believed it was love.

You are not mine to love.

You are mine to let go.

It is time to do so.



I truly want you to know,

I really don’t want to go,

When without you is without a soul.

Oh no. Love is no solo.



My selfish wishes, for the foolish me,

When I ask time, stand still for me.

Allow me, to cherish you,

in your embrace, one seconds more.



My dedicated wishes, for the selfless you,

When I ask time, be kind to you.

Allow you, to cherish her,

in her embrace, you always belonged."



~Samantha Ryan~



“Samantha…” It was Harry’s voice. The sound echoed distantly, but it was still music to her ears. She must be dreaming.

“Samantha!” Harry uttered firmly. Standing by her bedside, he placed his hand solidly on her shoulder, seemingly telling her he was real.

Feeling the warmth of his hand, she was elated as she popped her eyes open in disbelief. It was not a dream, and she hastily wiped the corner of her eyes feverishly, still obsessed with not letting him see her secrets.

Harry burningly swallowed all his remorse for Ginny, his guilt for Samantha, and his anger at Dumbledore. He pushed them all into his grinding stomach, so he could make way for his brave face and true smile, the same one she had complimented him earlier when they were heading to Ginny’s dorm.

Trembling profoundly, Samantha turned to greet her surprised visitor, standing protectively next to her. He was real. Her wish had come true once again. She was grateful that another one of her wishes had been granted, and she indeed could savor his sparkling green eyes and endearing smile one last time. His sheer presence was able to recharge her energy as all the pain momentarily vanished.

“Oh, Harry…” she quickly paused her low and breathless voice. She found it too tenderly and inappropriate to use on a mere friend, so she abruptly roughed up her tone to that of a nonchalant one, “You shouldn’t be… here! Shouldn’t you be with Ginny?”

“Dumbledore told me what happened and I came immediately!”

A scowl of helpless disapproval grilled her pasty face and she mumbled a few inaudible words.

“I… borrowed Hedwig to deliver something for me. I hope… you don’t mind, Harry.”

He shook his head, trooping closer so he could comfort her weak form, “You can borrow her anytime.

“Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you wait for me to go?” he asked meekly and sat by her bedside, letting himself grasp her hollow and ghostly eyes, her hauntingly pallid face, and her desolate and frail hands.

“I must… look awful…” she stuttered to his static gaze.

Harry immediately commanded his transfixed eyes to move, “Sorry, I was… just… shocked… seeing you here…”

An acute sense of loneliness and emptiness engulfed him when he could hear his voice registering a solemn echo in the ward as only the two of them were inside, “Where are your folks? Mum, Pop, and… your brother?”

She switched her head to the sunset window, her voice threatening to quiver but she was defiant to hold on to her composure in front of him. His mentioning of her non-existent family reminded her of how she made up that story and tricked him to wear her costume.

“What’s wrong?” he hovered caringly to her, but she pulled her face further away.

”Please … stop being so nice to me…” she pleaded to him silently. Biting her lip, it was all she could do. She was convinced her tiredness was the only reason why she wasn’t pushing him away.

“This hospital has the best healers. They’ll fix you up in no time.”

Her helpless features welcomed the dimming rays of sunlight from the open window as it was setting calmly, casting an ethereal shadow behind her pointy features.

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have given you the cloak,” Harry ignored her lukewarm response to his visit, “I noticed you look ill but… I didn’t say anything because I was… too occupied with Ginny�”“

“No,” she poked her head back to him, suddenly with a surge of restored strength, the renaissance of essence just before everything was over. “You should be occupied with Ginny! That is your job! Always remember that, Harry.”

She quickly energized her expressions, realizing his being here wasn’t his fault, “I bought something for you at Hogsmeade. I was planning to have Dumbledore give this to you,” she smiled hesitantly, pushing herself to light up one last time, “but since you’re here…”

She retrieved what appeared to be a medallion from under her sheets and handed it to him. The shine from the metal reflected a round piece of the sun onto the ceiling. Looking at it confusedly, he wasn’t clear what he was supposed to do with it.

“Harry, you blind bat! There’s a button here,” she slapped his hand and snatched it back. Harry grinned because he was glad she was back to her aggressive ways and appeared to be gaining her strength. As she pressed it, the cover snapped open, and he spotted a needle pointing directly at him. He got up and motored around the bed, studying the object in her colorless palm, observing the needle that was latching onto him mysteriously.

“A compass? But why does the needle move like that?” he looked up at her strangely and noticed she was gazing lingeringly at him.

Without answering, she handed it to him, summoning an ounce of energy to sound joyful, “Hold it. See where it points.”

Just as Harry held it in his hand, the needle spun a turn and pointed sharply to a window at his right.

“I don’t think that’s north,” he garbled and motioned around the ward, but the needle did not budge.

A most satisfying and blooming smile that Harry had never seen before grew on her face, “It’s pointing at the castle. It works, Harry. Ginny is in the castle. You’ll… always find her with it.”

Before he could investigate further, her glowing expressions fizzled away. She was coughing relentlessly and her eyes were starting to cave in. For some reason, the sunlight appeared to be shining through her face.

“SAMANTHA!” he darted towards her. “SOMEONE PLEASE COME IN! WE NEED�”“

She covered his lips and shook her head dishearteningly, her gray eyes flickering spiritlessly, “I don’t want… them coming in. They won’t know how to fix me!”

“But�”“

“Enough… about me,” she interrupted his anxiety and reopened her powerless eyes to reassure him she was all right. She wanted to change subjects.

“Tell me… how was… the get together with Ginny… in her room earlier?”

“It… it was terrific,” he lied agonizingly, still twitching to seek a healer, the severity of her condition finally hitting him. “The two of us… we… had lots of fun.”

“Lots… of fun?” she asked amusedly through her anguish heart. “I hope you didn’t do… anything naughty. I hope… you were a gentleman with Ginny… the entire time.”

Harry immediately blushed, “Samantha, thanks… for sneaking me in.”

“Harry, if you really… want to thank me… can I ask you… to do something for me?” she mumbled to the first thought that came to her as a profound emanation of love radiated from her pale skin, illuminating her ashen cheeks. It would take her mind to that spellbound night at the church, where everything began.

Revisiting that magical night with her mind, she was replaying the images of the memorable Christmas two years ago. Harry and Ginny were trapped by the dream curse, and Ginny was willing to sacrifice everything to save him from the freezing cold. As Ginny was resting intimately on Harry’s bare chest, listening to his thumping heartbeat, using her body heat to restore his energy, the strength of her borderless unconditional love for him was so intense it unknowingly radiated into the formation of a mysterious force that would become the Samantha of today. Her creation unwittingly defeated the chaotic dream curse in the process.

As a result, the dawn of Samantha and her essence was powered purely from love: Ginny’s love for Harry. When he woke up from the nightmare, she was fluttering on his chest in tandem with his heartbeat. Unbeknownst to him, it was Samantha’s spirit, and she quickly hid herself in the dove statue and resided in it ever since.

“I’ll do anything!” Harry replied eagerly, waking her up from her deep thoughts.

She flashed a scheming smile, her withering gaze anchoring themselves to his thumping heart, quivering underneath his shirt. All she wanted was to hear the crisp beating sounds again.

“Take… your shirt off,” Samantha stunned him.

“Uh?”

“I want you… to hold me.”

Harry was staring at her in shock.

She giggled hoarsely, her eyelids drooping again as she scurried laboriously to the side, making space for him to come onboard, “It’s nothing really. All innocent. Just a… hug! That’s all.”

He scratched his head apprehensively as blood rushed to his ears, thinking this was all too bizarre and inappropriate.

“Please, Harry…” she closed her weary eyes, pondering if she would open them again.

“I swear… I won’t take a peek…” she mumbled mutedly and patted her bed invitingly, her face emitting a glittering glow of pure clairvoyance as she prepared herself for the upcoming goodbye hug.

“No, I want you to peek! Keep your eyes open!” he heard himself demand jokingly to her stillness and unmoving body.

Harry peered around the room shyly. There was no one except the two of them and the outside corridor was very quiet.

“Samantha, you’re crazy, you know,” he muttered sheepishly.

Once again, he would give in to her manic requests, perhaps for the final time, he thought despairingly to himself. He would indulge her. Awkwardly, he removed his shirt, checking hopefully for a glimpse of her gray pupils in the process, but it was not to be. She was obviously too exhausted to open her eyes. He carefully climbed into her bed, lying next to her, still debating whether he should be doing this, as the corner of his eyes began to burn.

“Harry, close your eyes…

“Whatever sounds you’re about to hear... just… ignore them. Keep your eyes closed."

She continued faintly, “Harry… Promise you’ll never lose hope…”

He nodded as the scorching sensations in his eyes slowly exploded into water. He quickly closed his eyelids as the blurry white ceiling faded from his view.

“Harry, please also promise me that… you will always love Ginny and only Ginny… Whatever happens, she will be in your arms forever… just like that performance in the competition…

“Whatever happens… you’ll always be by her side.”

“I promise you,” he answered, too painful to ask why she was making him promise these things to Ginny.

“I never break my word.”

Hearing this to her satisfaction, her mission was complete. She did the best of her abilities. She could leave now.

The tip of her finger made its way to his arm weakly, “Harry… please…

“… hold me…”

Harry turned towards her, gently nestled her wavering head into him, and wrapped his arms around her as muffled hiccups began to echo under his chin, rippling tenderly into the mourning air. She was as frigid as ice. At last, she was willing to set her mask aside and let her feelings pour out of her eyes.

Gripping him tightly, she buried her face cozily into his warmhearted chest, finally locating the perfect spot that allowed her to hear him. To her delight, the quivering sounds were exactly like how she remembered two years ago. Despite all the suffering he had been through, his heart remained the same. It was unaffected. It continues to be vigorous and virtuous, powering its owner with insurmountable quantities of undefeatable and endearing love. She quickly muted her cries in order to hear him better.

“Harry, are… your eyes… closed?” she sniffed. Harry nodded.

“Samantha, tell me…” he forced a laugh through his tears, trying to keep her talking because he could sense she was truly leaving, “tell me… about… this thick boy of yours… you keep harping about.”

Even though she was on her last breath, she still managed to giggle mystically as she pushed a smile through her tears, because she was simply happy to be in his arms. For her, it was a moment worthy of a smile.

“Aren’t you tired… by now… my constant blabbing… of such foolishness? It’s been… three months of… my nonsense…”

“I know… but… I’ve… never really paid attention.

“I’m… your big brother,” he chuckled incoherently, in an effort to drown out all the suffocating sadness. “I should be… watching out for you! I have to approve this boy… to know if… he is right for you!”

“Would you… approve… if I say… he’s… just like you… Harry…” her disjointed breaths were winding down as her words blended with the motionless air.

Harry secretly shook his head. After the way he hurt Ginny, he certainly would not want someone like him for Samantha.

“Harry, he’s very brave… honorable…

“A very big heart…

“I’m… very proud of him…

“I’ll never... forget the first time... at the hall… when I… he... my mentor…"

Harry’s eyes twitched excruciatingly.

“His… messy jet-black hair…

“Beautiful… green eyes…

“They… sparkle… just like yours…”

Her description was unbearable; it finally dawned on him.

“Samantha,” he muttered apologetically.

“I’ll… never forget him… Harry…” interrupted Samantha inarticulately as her delicate hand glided to his backside and tugged something into his back pocket. It was a piece of jigsaw puzzle.

“Samantha, didn’t I tell you there’re places your hands shouldn’t go?” he murmured as gently as he could.

Of course she wouldn’t listen to his protests. She only wanted to hear him say those charming words again. Keeping in character with her unorthodox behavior, she responded rebelliously by lingering her naughty hand in his back pocket and giving him a feeble, playful, and final squeeze. She knew he always hated it when she would grab at him, but she wanted to infuriate him one more time, because her favorite expressions of him were when he becomes adorably irritated. Other than hiding her feelings for him, this was mainly the reason why she was always trying her best to torment him mischievously these past three months. She found him to be always at his cutest right after she would get him all worked up and helplessly exasperated. She loved seeing him struggling to not allow himself to fight back, all the while letting her have her way with him begrudgingly, because deep down, he was a true gentleman and would never raise his voice at a girl.

“Samantha…”

“……”

“Samantha…” he cried desperately, embracing her tighter and reaching for her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, but his pleas would be met with her soundlessness. There was no response.

“SAMANTHA…”

She had fallen silent, along with her weeping cries. Her fingers gently unlocked from his.

Although she could still hear his soft cries, his every syllable melting her heart, she could no longer respond to them. The hospital air stood still, as if time was being distorted, and it was very cold, like all the heat energy had just evaporated to another world.

Drifting away to embark on her journey, she turned back to admire the way Harry was hugging her lifeless face endearingly. Smiling and tucking away her tears, she could not ask more from him, his honest friendship, his poignant tears, and his unconditional care. She could not ask for more out of her brief existence. To have someone as special as Harry crying for her and caring about her was all she needed to make her sacrifices worthwhile. He gave her a reason to smile.

“Harry, all the wishes I made have come true so far. Therefore, I dedicate my final wish to you, and I’m sure it’ll come true too.

“I wish you and Ginny… be always together, and all the best in the world…

“Thank you for everything you’ve given me. I’ll never forget you and our times together.

“Goodbye, my dear friend, Harry Potter.” Samantha Ryan

Sticking to his word, he remained stationary and didn’t open his eyes. He understood he was crying for someone whom he knew for only three months and disliked for the better part of that stretch of time, but he felt like he had known her forever. He was helplessly overcome by the loss of a good friend, and he realized that all he could do now was to hold her longer to keep her warm and safe. There was nothing else he could do for her.

“I’m supposed to... take you to Hogsmeade... next week... just you... and me..."

Suddenly, he could sense something swooping into the hospital room through the open window and a swooshing sound broke his cries. Apparently, it landed on him. The feeling of fluttering wings on his bare skin was very familiar because it had happened before, so he was not alarmed. Through his eyelids, he could feel a bright white light illuminating the surroundings. He could not open his eyes because the warming light was so blinding yet enchanting. Surprisingly, he was not threatened by all the commotion, because he could feel a hand caressing tenderly and peacefully at his heart, seemingly soothing his pain.

As the light fizzled out, he opened his teary eyes to discover Samantha was no more. Instead, a statue of a pair of snow-white doves was sleeping on his bare chest securely under his arm, with Dumbledore silently looking on.



A/N: Relationships between people are sometimes ironic and hard to understand. Often times we assume one person benefits more from a relationship than the other, based on the role they play vis-a-vis the other: a volunteer vs. someone in need, a mother vs. her child, a teacher vs. his students.


I wanted to explore this in the Harry/Sam relationship. Both would thank the other, believing they got more out of the relationship than the other. Chapter 26 will elaborate on Harry's perspective when Dumbledore tells him the truth about his mentee's origins. I return to Ginny in Chapter 25, where she will reflect on what happened as her grip on her past loosens. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 25 From The Thorn Of His Rose...



A/N: Ahh... This chapter is slow but I've always wanted to revisit CoS and write about Ginny's first encounter with Harry at the Burrow. Please be patient. The focus of this chapter is how through hearing herself speak about Harry outloud, Ginny will begin her path to recovery.

Still drowsy from the cold medicine she took earlier, Ginny sat stoically by her dresser, gazing longingly at the picture of her and Harry, the dynamic photo of him embracing her in his arms, her bare foot dangling awkwardly as he galloped energetically to the backstage after their very successful performance. The image was like a groom carrying his bride excitedly on their way to their first intimate wedding night. Even though she wasn’t in a wedding dress, everything else made her feel like they were newlyweds, with her long sheer flowing red gown matching perfectly with his suit, together bounded by the enchanting spotlight and earth shattering applause. For a brief moment, when Dumbledore declared them the winner, it was as if he was playing the role of the priest, pronouncing them as husband and wife. She wondered nostalgically how many times this particular portrait had appeared in her fantasies since the first time she met him behind her door.

Ginny chuckled at the way she was resisting Harry defiantly, fighting his grips, trying to set herself free, because she was upset he scooped her up without her permission. On the other hand, she was thrilled he overpowered her protests and refused to let her go. For once, he did not let her have her way. He took the initiative, freely allowing his hands to explore her skin, using the excuse of her losing a shoe to manhandle her dangerously for the first time. Admittedly, she didn’t put up much of a struggle, because she was too busy savoring his touch. It had been too long since the last time he held her.

With her finger gingerly tracing the borders of the jigsaw puzzle on her dresser, she mused how their bodies were seemingly fitted perfectly with each other in the picture, with her hips matching every aspect of his grip. Together, they were just like two neighboring jigsaw puzzle pieces that used to be one, before they were ruthlessly torn apart.

It was the same sensation two years ago, when she bravely obliterated all the barriers between them and pressed herself intimately against him at the church that memorable night, daringly using her body like a hot blanket to keep him alive. Under the careful watch of a pair of beaming angels, she could still remember how every inch of his muscle simply united seamlessly with her flaming skin. In his unconsciousness, she unleashed her inhibitions onto him. He would unknowingly let her have her paradise, and in the process, she almost made him hers that night.

In her mind, the photo of the performance represented the future, a fairy tale fantasy, and what could be possible for the two of them, if only she could let go of the reality that was her past, a stubborn imprint nailed to her heart. She need not look further to receive her anguish reminder; a piece of it was vividly displayed on a second photo taken at the Leaky Cauldron last year, hidden behind the frame.

She gently disassembled the frame and laid the contrasting pictures beside each other. It had been awhile since she saw the second photo. The corners were slightly curled and there were some discolored patches. It must be from wear and tear, she rationalized. But one thing she couldn't deny was the reason why it was hidden; the sour feelings from seeing the morbid expressions of Harry and him pulling away from her grip in that picture were unbearable.

The arm of the grandfather clock on the dresser was methodically swinging back and forth atop the two pictures, imitating the movement of her debating eyes. It was as if it was asking her to choose between the two of them. The seconds continued to pass her by, hurrying her to come to a decision, but she still could not make up her mind.

Despite the grogginess and combined with the tumble she suffered after waking up from her dramatic dream of the picnic, she was certain Harry had been in her room earlier. She knew boys were out of bounds in the girls’ dorms, but the mysterious return of his jacket would be the confirmation she needed, that he had been here, and he had left it behind. Indeed, she was truly in his arms earlier, and it wasn't a dream, she convinced herself helplessly. She lethargically trudged to the bed with it, hoping she could sleep off the melancholy drowning her lungs.

Smiling sardonically, she was certainly not prepared to have his jacket rebound back to her so quickly, after having it returned to him just yesterday night. Just like her efforts to completely shed herself of his lingering green eyes would ultimately prove to be futile at the end. This must be some form of sadistic punishment, she grilled herself. In fact, she figured everything that happened between her and Harry was simply one nasty joke. She kept asking herself why she had to stand next to him by the staircase under the mistletoe two years ago, an encounter that led to all of this.

As she rested his jacket on her bed, she noticed a beautiful rose was sleeping on her bedside, the one Harry had used to tickle her neck earlier, before he stormed out after having recovered his memory. Seeing it by itself, the vibrant red petals and long stem, made her remember the rose he gave her at the picnic. He had tried so hard to impress her that day, intending to perform an array of magic tricks, only to conjure up just one successful spell for her. It was this one, and he surprised her by pulling it out from his sleeve and inserting it in her hair.

Little did she know, that picnic would mark the last time she got to truly hold him as a couple. It was also the last time her eyes would grace his unscarred face, sporting the most wonderful of expressions and sparkling green stars for her. All the unfortunate events would soon follow, where he would fall into a coma when he selflessly shielded her from the attack in the passageway to Hogsmeade. Immediately after, his memory was stolen, leaving her with only a lifeless cold jacket as a consolation prize. Just like the rose, what they shared was not timeless, contrary to what she had believed. Everything she treasured quickly wilted in front of her eyes.

”Ginny…” he uttered to their final goodbyes when they were trapped in the imaginary world before he lost consciousness. The Harry that woke up weeks later was a different person. His eyes would no longer sparkle at her. Once again, he would go back to playing the role of being just her brother’s best friend.

Without thinking, Ginny reached for the stem carelessly, only to release it to the ground when a flash of acute pain scorched her finger. Looking at her fresh wound, there was a drop of warm blood on her fingertip, expanding as red as the petals. Who would have known that something so beautiful and flawless could inflict so much pain, she thought to herself.

The thorn from the rose must be in the shape of a key, because for some reason, it was unlocking the diary that resided in her heart, to the entry that documented the first time she met him behind her door. Coincidentally, she had recounted that breathtaking moment with Sam this morning, when she came asking her to join them to Hogsmeade. They ended up having a long shouting match about him, after she cornered the little girl into admitting she had a crush on her mentor.

Ginny wanted to assure Sam it was fine for her to have feelings for Harry. Of all people, she should understand this, because, she too, was helplessly spellbound by him at the tender age of eleven. She reminded Sam they were indeed similar individuals and she convinced her to open up by describing to her what happened the first time she met him at the Burrow.

Ginny was not surprised she could recite that day in such vivid detail. Indeed, she could still hear his tentative footsteps as he approached her doorstep with Ron. Prior to meeting him, she had heard a lot of spectacular stories about him, helping her formulate obsessively a grand distinguished image of him. However, after witnessing his friendly timid face, she was pleasantly surprised by his modesty. He certainly didn’t match her mental images, because he was so much more; he turned out to be so much better in person. Despite all his accomplishments, he was a humbled polite gentleman. He was no more than the boy next door, but he turned out to be the boy her eyes would only see for the rest of her life, and someone who would become her guardian angel along the way.

It was a short encounter, because she immediately shut her door after he caught her mesmerized brown eyes admiring him, but it was enough for her to absorb every particle of his magnificent details, and say to herself that he was the ideal boy for her. She quickly pleaded to the skies, wishing he would someday notice the silly little girl that was her. She had made her choice that would change her life forever.

Ginny comforted Sam firmly, letting her know it was safe if Harry were to find out about her feelings. She reassured Sam that Harry knew of her crush from the beginning when she was eleven, but he reacted by being very thoughtful, pretending as if he didn’t know.

Thinking back to all the little mishaps along the way, she was convinced he was aware after he caught her peeking at him, blushing and knocking her porridge bowl to the floor, and putting her elbow in her butter dish nervously when he asked her a simple question the next day. Coupled with the confessions she wrote in the Riddle diary about him, and Ron teasing her blatantly in front of Myrtle and him, he had to be mental to not realize the truth, but he never made an issue of her silliness or laughed at her. She realized she was infatuated with him at the beginning, but through his genuine kindness, he unknowingly gave her a reason to truly love him.

Most boys would have destroyed her if they found out about these things, Ginny explained to Sam. Ginny recalled her own brothers were making fun of her heartlessly, but Harry was not like the other boys. He was different. He was already a considerate gentleman when he was only twelve years old. Meanwhile, being only one year younger, she was still admittedly, a foolish immature little girl.

Ginny told Sam she never thanked Harry for everything he did for her that year, even though she meant nothing to him at the time. Not only did he risk his life to save hers, she would never forget the way he protected her afterwards. Because he was afraid she would be expelled for opening the Chamber, he told his story to Dumbledore and her parents very carefully, mindfully glancing at her the entire time to make sure she was all right. Every word was so meticulously chosen because he didn’t want to get her in trouble, despite the fact he had just gone through a harrowing experience and almost died himself. But through the ordeal, he genuinely placed an enormous amount of priority on her and her feelings. He didn’t want her to suffer any more trauma. She would eternally be grateful, and she faithfully wanted to thank him and let him know that his silent efforts had not gone unnoticed.

During their conversation, Ginny, through hearing her own explanations to Sam and her words about Harry, would finally understand what the Headmaster meant when he described how Harry was a person with commendable qualities. Harry’s sincere kindness simply moved people in unbelievable ways, just as it did with Aria, and the same thing happened to Sam, and unfortunately, possibly more girls in the future.

“Ginny, it doesn’t matter how many girls would fall for him or throw themselves at him! What matters is how he feels about you! You still don’t get it!” Sam blasted, trying to retort Ginny for suggesting that she could no longer compete for Harry’s attention.

Once again, Sam insisted nothing was going on between her and her mentor. For her to be so worked up about Harry spoke volumes to Ginny, however. Nevertheless, she was not resentful of Sam. Instead, she was impressed by her, a girl so young yet so mature, selflessly putting her own unreciprocated feelings for Harry aside in order to make way for Ginny.

“Girls from the entire school wanted him for the competition! Others just want him… for his celebrity… status, fame! He could have them all but he turned them all down, and you should know why!” she continued ringing determinedly into Ginny’s dizzying ears.

“Isn't it obvious he doesn’t want anyone else but you as his partner for the competition?” she screeched madly.

“You broke his heart… when you chose Oliver Wood,” Sam’s face contorted painfully as her breath began to lose the ability to power her screams. “I was with Harry the entire time… while you were too busy practicing with Wood. You were too blind to notice… how sad Harry was, seeing you… leaving with… another boy… every day!”

At the time, Ginny was too weak to counter Sam. Contrary to her fiery accusations, Ginny did notice Harry’s pain the past three months. Instead of shouting back, all Ginny could do was cover her face with her blanket in an attempt to shut Sam out, but she was relentless in her defense for Harry.

“Do you know why he was able to do your routine so flawlessly? It’s because he memorized the entire program, all the choreography! He…

“He… would wake up early… and watch you… practice with Oliver… everyday… to make sure you’re safe…

“Ginny, he truly cares about you. He loves you. Ginny, you… have to believe me…” Sam’s cracking voice began to slip off-key as it pierced through the covers. That was all Ginny could remember before the room fell silent as she cried herself to sleep.

Pulling herself out of the memories from this morning’s argument, she glanced at her finger. The blood had gone dry. The wound had passed. Could it be this easy, she pondered hopefully.

She gathered up the rose, this time more carefully, and placed it back on her bed. With her drowsiness dissipating, she wanted to find Harry, even though she didn’t know why. She zoomed to the dresser to tidy up her face, patting on some light makeup to hide the anguish written all over.

“It is not the rose to blame for the thorns. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Harry is truly a good person…” Ginny could hear her reflection mutter to her.

“He… deserves a second chance. You have to find it in you to forgive him...”

Just as she was done putting her lipstick on hastily, tears inadvertently started to roll and they began to faint the superficial colors. Not knowing what to do anymore, she snapped her lipstick in frustration and tossed it into her reflection.

Her tears were in conflict too. The pearls from her left eye were from the pain he inflicted on her, but they were matched, drop for drop, by the ones flowing from her right eye, those of which were undoubtedly for the abiding love she had for him. She was torn.

Chapter 26 The Footprints You Left Behind...

”Three months would pass us by,

We journeyed a difficult path.

We stumbled, we tumbled, but

we never crumbled.



I now understand the reasons why.

I am no longer foolishly blind.

When I look at the footprints you left behind,

I see deepness poignant determination intertwined.



I now understand the reasons why.

Footprints bear the weight of two people,

because you had been carrying me,

the entire time, the entire path, all this time…"



~Harry Potter~

At the sight of Dumbledore’s sudden appearance in the ward, Harry immediately scurried up and was staring in awe at what he was clutching across his chest. What was supposed to be Samantha’s body was now a motionless statue of pearly white doves, very similar to the one Ginny gave him for Christmas two years ago, of which Ron had carelessly broken back at the Burrow.

“Harry,” he patted his arm movingly. “Before you unleash your anger at me, please let me explain everything to you.”

Panting uncontrollably, Harry wiped his eyes, wrestled out of Dumbledore’s grips and put on his shirt. Dumbledore’s request for calm was eerily similar to that of last year in his office, when they talked about Sirius and the prophecy and Harry lost his temper, destroying half of his eclectic possessions in the heat of the moment.

Dumbledore gazed deeply into his eyes, seemingly probing his mind, but he cocked away defiantly as a silent protest to all the countless times he had hidden the truth from him. He was very angry to have a professor who continued to underestimate him, and who was still assuming he was too young to handle the truth despite all the experiences he had gained these past years.

Sensing his favorite student’s coldness, he lethargically paced to the bed and retrieved the doves solemnly as Harry continued to inch away frostily. For once, Dumbledore was speechless behind his tired opaque eyes; he didn’t know where to begin with regard to this fragile and complicated situation. The silence in the room was quickly driving them apart like a wedge.

“The fact that I noticed the other dove spirit finding its way back just as I was reconstructing the statue…” Dumbledore finally broke the heavy silence and gazed somberly at the open window from which the spirit entered the room, “and the way Hermione described the scene with the image of a white bird in the imaginary world last year, you must have recovered…

“Your memory of Ginny… the dream curse… and… unfortunately…

“Aria Hannibal,” he muttered tentatively. “I can sense you’ve broken through my memory charm too. I should have known… Of all people to do so, it would be you, Harry, who will possess the strength to break through my memory charms.”

Without acknowledging his choppy but accurate assertions, Harry marched bitterly to the window, his hands in balls of fists. He didn’t want Dumbledore to see his blazing eyes and repeat his screaming ways of last year at the office, even though he felt every right to tear his Headmaster apart, for casting a memory charm on him without his permission.

“Harry, since you have your memory back, do you remember the significance of this statue?” asked Dumbledore mildly.

Harry nodded lightly, suppressing the furious fire threatening to unleash itself as he kept his back solidly against the Headmaster while at the same time, recalling painfully his ruthless indifference of his reactions in front of Ginny in response to the shattered fragments at the Burrow. He could still remember her crying about them when he chased her to her doorway, only to foolishly misinterpret her agony, thinking she was in pain from being physically hurt in the Quidditch game. He now finally understood the reasons behind her tears, only that sadly, it was four months too late.

“It is an enchanted object because…” Dumbledore addressed fruitlessly to Harry’s shoulders that were beginning to heave erratically as he could now feel every drop of Ginny’s tears from that day, like spikes squeezing themselves through his windpipe. He violently opened the window to its widest to let the noise echoing from outside to mask his cries.

Dumbledore raised his voice, agonizingly pretending to not hear Harry’s suffering, hoping it would make his student feel better, “Along the way, two very pure but powerful spirits would arise, and would… reside in it, and call it their home… until…”

He had to pause. He couldn’t pretend to not notice anymore, because the boy was clearly hurting badly. The boy was too hurt to hear anything. He slowly walked towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder again, but he abruptly rejected it once more.

After waiting a few moments to let Harry gather himself, Dumbledore took a few steps back and proceeded wearily again, “Harry, you have to bear with me because it’s a little confusing. I’ll try to explain the best I can.

“A spirit that adopted the shape of a peace dove was formed when Ginny saved you from the dream curse at the church on Christmas,” Dumbledore restarted clearly.

Harry wiped his eyes, stopped his muffled cries, and turned his head slightly towards Dumbledore, wanting to listen more carefully, but he still refused to look at him. He was now replaying the images of that memorable night two years ago and the feeling of fluttering wings when he woke up from his bed naked.

“Do you recall I said… it was Ginny’s unconditional love for you that saved you from the dream curse?”

Harry nodded wordlessly.

“Amid the confusion of the curse and the dream world in a continuous state of flux, something magical took place when Ginny… made the choice to sacrifice herself to save you.

“But… it wasn’t her actions or what she did to you while you were unconscious in your wet clothes that helped you that night. That alone did not save you.”

Harry’s cheeks began to blush underneath his frigid dry tears, realizing Dumbledore knew all the intimate details of what Ginny did exactly to him.

“Harry, I want you to understand that… it was the thought process behind Ginny’s decisions, her profound emotions behind her choices… that made all the difference.

“Because Ginny was truly willing to do anything for you, including sacrificing her life, there was absolutely no wavering doubt in her mind… she was adamant behind her choice…

“It was this kind of sheer and firm determination… the kind of solid determination that can only come from… pure true love for a person… that freed you from the dream world.

“Do you remember what I said in the hospital wing two years ago… about love and Dark Magic… and how the emotion of love in itself is the most powerful form of magic?”

Harry did not answer, but he could recall how Dumbledore compared Dark Magic to a house of cards and should not be feared upon, because simple good things that were taken for granted, such as friendship, sunlight, and love, could easily defeat them.

“I told you Ginny’s love for you is simply so strong… its essence countered the curse…

“Just like your mother’s love saved you from the death curse when you were a baby.”

As these words punished his eardrums, Harry’s stomach felt like someone had light a burning match and tossed it inside, letting the flame roast him to a slow and painful death. The remorse from betraying Ginny compounded exponentially.

“But I never explained… what happened after the dream curse was defeated, fearing the information would overwhelm the two of you.”

Harry grunted. As usual, Dumbledore was always hiding things from him, he thought miserably to himself.

“After… the magic essence pulled both of you out of the dream state in the chaos, it… did not dissipate. Instead, it was as powerful as ever. It had a life of its own.

“You would wake up when she was nursing your internal injuries from the fall into the frozen lake. Seeing your blinking shocked eyes, she didn’t know what to do. Not wanting to startle you, she hid herself inside the hollow dove statue that was sitting on your shelf. That’s why you might have seen visions of the wings moving.”

“She…?” asked Harry chokingly, inching around.

Dumbledore smiled because Harry had finally uttered his first word, “She is… the Samantha of today, Harry.”

Harry abruptly turned to meet Dumbledore’s warm smile that managed to immediately disarm his anger to a mellow. Seeing his willingness to open up, Dumbledore gently handed him the statue, “Yes, Harry. I guess you can say a miracle was born that Christmas night.”

“A spirit… inside?” he stared at it in disbelief, beginning to understand why Samantha knew so much about him, knowing it had accompanied him in his quarters closely the whole time, the Burrow, his uncle’s place, and the castle.

“Samantha… the entire time?” repeated Harry involuntarily.

“Inside one of them apparently,” he corrected him. “Something similar would take place and a second spirit would form a few days later, when it was your turn to save Ginny from the dream curse. It would reside in the second dove. I believe you know where I’m going with this.”

“In the desert…” Harry murmured to the images of the dream that were now appearing in his head, “A shadow of birds… flying over me just as I collapsed… into the quicksand…”

“Harry, you had the foresight to bring it to the hospital wing and rested it on Ginny just before you entered her dream state and saved her, giving the second spirit a place to stay after it pulled both of you out from the nightmare.

“It is the first time I come across such phenomenon. I never knew it was possible. Something good actually came out of the dream curse ordeal. As I said that day, they are truly magnificent.”

Harry gazed at it deeply, wanting to peer behind the pearly white porcelain, and gave it a soft curious shake, “There are… two spirits inside, because of me and Ginny… and Samantha is one of them?”

Dumbledore nodded, “To this day, I still don’t know how a little girl like Ginny was able to find such an interesting piece of magic to give you… a sculpture that could house spirits.

“It took some effort but I was able to reconstruct for them… a new home… with the fragments Sam brought me. It is good I made room for the second spirit because I had believed it would never come back…

“Samantha… or her… spirit is inside now?” asked Harry again hopefully, wanting to make sure.

“Yes,” he answered reassuringly as he sat on one of the beds. “Let me tell you more about your mentee.

“After Aria stole the second spirit, Sam would reside alone in it, until Ronald Weasley broke it. To her surprise, she survived the trauma, because… Ginny cried very hard immediately afterwards.”

“Yes, she cried,” said Harry painfully, not understanding why that was important.

“Harry, it turned out Ginny’s love was the thing that fueled Sam’s spirit, so she did not perish. From that, she understood she’ll live as long as Ginny remains in love with you. Therefore, she wanted to help the two of you get back together to ensure her survival, but as an air of a spirit there was little she could do.

“She gathered some of the shattered fragments and flew to Hogwarts, after searching the entire Burrow and found no suitable resting place for her.

“She was seeking me out, hoping I will help her reunite with either you or Ginny, so she can somehow get the two of you back together, because she was aware I’m the only one that understands what she is and where she comes from.

“Of course I recognized the fragments and knew she was telling the truth. I kept telling her I believed her origins… that she wasn’t some sinister magic from Voldemort, but wanting to absolutely prove to me she was not lying, she confessed everything she knows about you.

“I guess… having spent two years as your invisible roommate, enclosed behind the porcelain with nothing to do…” Dumbledore smiled mildly, “she has the free time to pinpoint the exact location of every single razor cut on your face… or hair follicle that is on your body…”

Feeling completely violated, Harry gasped and blushed nervously at the idea that he had been studied upon by Samantha intimately the entire time without his knowledge.

“It was certainly… an intriguing conversation,” Dumbledore glimmered at Harry, who quickly looked away. “But I will say no more of what she shared with me about you…

“I am no stranger to talking to magic creatures… Fawkes and I sometimes can chat all day long.

“Anyway, she explained to me that in order for her to survive, Ginny has to continue loving you. But sadly, she was convinced you alone could not mend back the relationship. She was afraid of the possibility Ginny will eventually give up and love someone else.

"I noticed she was especially hostile with one Oliver Wood...

“At the Burrow, she found out… about you selected as mentor. From that, she devised this detailed plan to help you get back with Ginny.

“After an entire day of gobbledygook, she finally asked me to grant her the appearance of an eleven year old girl with my magic, and assign her specifically to you… to be your mentee, so she can guide you.

“I became more impressed as we talked, because she is very intelligent... her spunk… ingenuity… despite all the gibberish. She is more human than I expected. She convinced me.

“She didn’t want anyone to suspect that we know each other, so she specifically instructed me to make a mistake with her name in front of the entire school. It was very important for her that everyone, including you, to treat her normally and not know about her strange origins.

“I agreed to help her because I didn’t want such a beautiful and rare magical creation to perish, especially after Aria stole her companion… and she has helped save both of you many times. I know her intentions are good.

“I did not see any harm in her plans, but I have to admit… I was also biased at the time, because I too wanted to see you and Ginny together. Because Sam knows you two so well, she’s the perfect person for the job.

“I also know that as long as Ginny continues to love you, Sam will live. I told her I’m working on giving her a permanent human form if I can. I was confident she will stay in Hogwarts with no problems, aside from her crazy behavior… and perhaps move on to live normally like the rest of us. Her existence will not affect the balance of the human world or wizardry world.

“Judging from Sam’s vigor and energy, it is clear Ginny still loves you very much despite everything that had happened… although her gray hair and frail build… it’s a sign Ginny had suffered a lot of pain as a result of the events last year.

“Seeing this, I started having doubts, wondering if Ginny was willing to continue loving you given all the anguish. I know Sam’s lifeline will be cut the day Ginny decides to stop, so I agree with Sam… that she must start her plan immediately before it’s too late.”

Harry cut in, clutching the statue tighter, “Then why is Samantha sick… and now she is…”

“Little did she know,” Dumbledore returned to his sad expressions, “something unexpected happened immediately after you introduced yourself to her. We failed to factor this in the plan.”

Harry paced away depressingly from Dumbledore to face the window again. He needed no more explanations. He should be smart enough to know the reasons, because people he cared about always would suffer a terrible fate.

Looking outside at the snowy sidewalk despairingly, Harry noticed two people, a man playfully carrying a woman on his back as they strolled along. The streetlights illuminated the man’s deep footsteps, bearing the weight of two people, under the sunset skies.

“The emotion of love is a big part of being human,” Dumbledore mumbled.

“Sam got to know you personally over the past two years… from all your heroic admirable qualities… your hot temper… to every battle scar on your body… but… in the form of a little girl… immediately… her human emotions took over, and… the most powerful one of them all… would…

“It seized her completely,” Dumbledore stuttered, “when… she met you… that night in the hall.

“It would eventually serve as a conflict. Her feelings and affections for you began to cannibalize the lifeline that was Ginny’s love, and turn it into a ruthless fire.

“The closer you got to Ginny, the more it would hurt Sam… The deeper Sam loved you, the weaker she would get.

“It was an impossible situation, but she was determined to hold on, because she realized her plan to mend your relationship with Ginny wasn’t about her survival anymore. The goal of her plan would now change, and she will put your interests ahead of her.

“All she wanted was what is best for you. She wanted you to get back with Ginny.

“At that point, she was as human as the rest of us. To sacrifice yourself for the person you love…

“Once love starts, it’s unstoppable. She knew the end was near. The more she pushes you towards Ginny, the more she thinks about wanting you, and her love grows even more. Loving someone when you’re not supposed to…

“She weakened significantly after the flying competition. The pain of seeing you and Ginny perform was the reality she cannot afford to see.”

“Samantha disappeared right after she dragged me to the Quidditch fields. I was too occupied with Ginny to remember her limping,” Harry recalled shakily to the remnants of the snowy footsteps on the sidewalk as his eyes were drained of emotions except guilt.

“WAIT A MINUTE! My costume, everything that happened that night… the pair of stars that I kept seeing blinking at me…” Harry snapped his head towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded faintly to confirm Harry’s suspicions, “I was not aware of her extensive involvement to sign you up for the competition until afterwards. During your performance, she was watching you from afar, savoring her successful efforts, at the same time, on the brink of demise.

“I tried to help her that night to no avail. I suggested memory charms but…

“She would rather die than lose her feelings for you even if they were killing her.

“I suggest she stay at my office to recuperate, but she refused because she said time was running out. She wanted…” Dumbledore let his voice mute to the floor as Harry’s face contorted in pain, because he recalled seeing Sam perched in the common room staircase that early morning and he had wanted to avoid her.

“Harry, you did make her wish come true the night of the performance. Seeing Ginny in your arms made all the difference for her. She was delighted. It kept her going. I now understand it was good you made Ginny lose her shoe at the end of the routine.

“But earlier today…” Dumbledore’s voice tightened up to repress the flood of emotions in his eyes, “when she saw you go to Ginny’s room, it was… it would… seal her demise for her.

“Harry, I was at a Hogsmeade shop when to my surprise, I saw her rushing across the street underneath your cloak. I followed her because I noticed she was struggling to keep her form intact, busily holding her possessions… until…”

Dumbledore breathed deeply and furtively wiped the corner of his eye, “I said I’ll take her back to the castle, but she refused because she…

“She doesn’t want you to know… to worry about her… to be burdened with her problems. I brought her here instead.

"She forbade me from telling you the truth. But you had to know.”

“Professor,” Harry whimpered weakly, “you said… Samantha’s inside now? That means she’s alive and okay, right? She did not… perish…”

“Her human days may be over. She is very weak but she is okay… Thanks to you, Harry,” Dumbledore gazed at him proudly.

“It was the reason I rushed you here to see her, and once again, you never let me down.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore’s sparkling eyes confusedly.

“Let me tell you a story, Harry.

“There was a little girl who loves to make wishes to the stars. Almost all of her wishes though… were for the boy she loves.

“Towards the end, she tabulated all her wishes and finally realized to her delight… that all of them have come true for her.

“Indeed, she had forgotten about one very important wish she made for herself. It was one that she made every night… and it had come true for her too.

“The wish was… that she gets to stay… with her best friend forever.

“All the little girl needed was to have… just one... one very special person in this world, someone with a heart filled with love, who truly... do not want her to go.

“It’s enough to let the spiritual forces know that it’s not her time yet,” Dumbledore walked closer to Harry and placed his hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair, “because… they know a very special boy with jet-black hair and bright green eyes still needs her… for many years to come...

“They heard you loud and clear earlier.”

Harry gently returned his focus back to the snowy footsteps outside, as his mind helplessly traveled back in time, revisiting everything that had happened these past three months between him and Samantha. As the images played sequentially in his mind, his view of the snowy footsteps on the sidewalk began to blur and tremble, giving way to erratic rainbows of colors that distorted his vision. Awash with words of gratitude, his eyes grew movingly warmer, as each word would slowly formulate in both corners and bounce off his cheeks, carefully splashing themselves onto the precious statue in his hand.

“Harry, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who gets bullied by her,” Dumbledore gently turned him around and showed him his arm. There was a slight scratch.

Dumbledore hugged Harry softly, “Your mentee firmly instructed me earlier that I am to explain her sudden departure by telling the school she got kicked out of Hogwarts for sneaking to Hogsmeade.

“The rebellious disobedient… brash image that you failed to discipline as her mentor… your spoiling her and letting her temper tantrums spiral out of control, worsening as the school year progressed… it’s a cool image she’s apparently very proud of…”

Chapter 27 Lonely Shooting Star

With her mind and heels bubbling in slippery foam, Ginny tenuously ventured out of the castle lethargically after failing to locate Harry inside. What used to be a familiar layout of the school would morph into a maze of intimidating walls and passageways for her, as her twisted thoughts continued to overwhelm her overcharged senses. Once she successfully managed to reach the castle gates, she immediately got her reward for her struggling efforts; she would spot someone zooming stylishly in the air. Against the backdrop of a darkening sunset, the flyer reminded her of a powerful shooting star. Thinking it was Harry, her heartbeat began to race erratically as she chased his blazing trail.

“Harry!” her untamed eyes imitated her outstretched arm as the emotional-filled pupils extended themselves as far as they could, like a pair of binoculars, into the windy air.

Unfortunately, as the driver turned to smile and wave, she recognized he wasn’t wearing a familiar pair of glasses in front of what was her favorite set of sparkling green eyes. To top it off, he sported an earring. She tucked her pupils disappointedly back into their sockets.

“Ginny! Wanna join me for old times sake?” Oliver floated to the ground to greet her, only to get a pair of tired disillusioned reddish eyes and swollen glands in return. “What’s wrong?”

“I… have a cold. That’s all,” Ginny choked evasively. She was slightly taken aback by Oliver’s rather upbeat demeanor. Seeing his engagement ring dancing around his adam’s apple brought her back to the last time they spoke, when they were in his quarters where he shared his painful past with her.

“Gin,” he smirked teasingly, “why were you… erm… looking at me like that earlier? I thought I told you I’m too old for you�”“

“Oh, knock it off!” she cut in. “That joke’s getting tired now!”

Oliver slowly began to recognize the void behind Ginny’s eyes. The torment behind them was the kind he sadly knew too well.

“Remember… I told you if you need a brotherly shoulder… I’m here for you,” he offered graciously.

“No thanks, Romeo,” she replied curtly. “I don’t want you to think I’m in love with you or something.”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders and guided her to the audience stands. He knew she wanted to talk, contrary to what she said, “It’s okay. Why don’t we just… sit for awhile?”

The two of them rested in the stands in silence, watching the dimming skies, the rim of the sun still preventing the nightly curtain of stars from coming in.

“Oliver, can I ask you something?” Ginny suddenly sprung up. “You can tell me to buzz off if you don’t want to answer.”

Oliver’s curious eyes followed her as she had her back facing him. She appeared to be taking something out of her pocket. It was the two photos of her and Harry from the picture frame on her dresser.

“Oliver,” she muttered greasily, her eyes switching back and forth indecisively between the contrasting pictures, as the winds carefully carried each soulful word to Oliver’s eardrums, “do you forgive… her…

“for… abandoning you… at the… train station…

“The way… she… hurt you?”

Ginny kept her back towards Oliver as she mindfully prepared herself for the potential upcoming outpour of emotion from him, similar to what happened in his quarters.

“If…she were to come back…” she continued achingly, trying to use Oliver to justify her tough unforgiving position towards Harry, “and she was standing here… right now… Will you let her back into your life… as if… nothing happened?”

Instead of the emotions, Oliver startled Ginny by punctuating the windy silence with a simpering snort.

“I’m sorry, Oliver… I shouldn’t be… probing about that…” she turned around and gazed apologetically at him, noticing his eyes had ceased to blink, misinterpreting his snort as a sound of muffled cries, only to find him bursting into laughter soon after.

“Ginny. Ginny. Ginny,” he shook his head with an elongated grin as he imitated her sickly tone, “you just want to make me cry again… is that it?”

“Oliver, no. I�”“

“Just kidding, Ginny,” he sighed, noticing the two pictures in her troubled hands.

Wanting to cheer her up, he mustered all his strength to sound like a mocking comedian, “Ginny, sit down. You want to know about the train station? Fine! Let me tell you how ridiculous I was that day.

“When I was there,” he mumbled numbly to the images of his past, “with my luggage… on the platform, waiting…

“Watching the people… other passengers… kiss each other goodbye, as I was standing alone…

“Train after train, they would depart,” he forced a snigger between his words. He needed to hear himself laugh in order to restore his mocking tone, because he noticed it was swirling down emotionally.

“But they would depart without me. I thought it was like… like…

“Each train left with a part of my soul.

“The arms of the clock continued to chip away at my heart... like a knife… stabbing me… tick-tock-tick-tock…

“Wow… is that schmaltzy or what?” he interrupted himself and chuckled hollowly, resurrecting his casual voice once again. “I bet you’ve seen these lines used thousands of times in one of those romance novels you read.”

“I don’t read things like that!” she narrowed her eyes. Oliver was happy they were no longer reddish. His efforts were working.

“I was so foolish I begged the clock to stop… or at least… slow down for me… because I was positive she would arrive in the next minute…

“Anyway, I took out a photo of us… in panic… like a madman, I asked anybody that was willing to listen… the ticket desk… the janitor… if they saw her…

“Of course they all… shook their heads!” he snapped angrily to silence the slight heat threatening to defrost his frozen eyes.

“The last train would depart… and took the final piece of my soul with it.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he announced nonchalantly. “An owl dropped by to give me a note. Surprise. Surprise. It was from her… Didn’t say much. It was less than ten words, if I can recall.

“After everything we went through,” he winced but maintained his indifferent expressions, “it would abruptly end in ten words, scribbled on a piece of blue paper. Just like that!

“The last thing I remembered was… I tore up the picture… the letter… as I paced along the platform one last time… into a thousand pieces…

“Bits of it were sailing… following the draft of current… from the last train.

“The station would close… leaving me behind.”

Oliver raised his voice, “I felt… like a hollow log of zombie as I walked out… just wandering aimlessly… in the streets…

“I was walking in the crowded sidewalk, filled with people and their voices... laughter... probably laughing at me... and the streetlights and neon signs in such a big metropolis… surrounding me... but I never felt… more abandoned in my entire life.”

Ginny could relate. She recalled how she was wandering listlessly in the London streets and almost got hit by a car before Oliver saved her, although she couldn’t relate as to how he could recite his story so casually.

Oliver whistled a tune, “I like to come out every night by myself… and just explore the skies. Do you know why, Gin?

“As a fool, I somehow convinced myself that one day, I’ll see her again. Is that crazy?

“For a brief moment earlier, when I saw you chasing my trail… believe it or not, I actually mistaken you for her, until I remembered… she doesn’t have red fur.”

Ginny grimaced meekly, remembering she too had momentarily mistaken Oliver for Harry, “I hope you’re not disappointed, but you… still haven’t answered my question.”

Avoiding her question once again, he gently took the photos out of her hands and examined both of them, “Ahhh… so he is the poor soul. I knew it!”

Ginny attempted to take them back but he stretched his arm into the air to make sure they were out of her reach.

“Ginny, Yuriko once told me,” he smiled musically, “the most beautiful girl is a girl that’s truly… in love… there’s a certain warm radiant glow in their eyes…

“I can see she’s right, judging by the picture…

“But… so far, I have never seen you like this in person.”

She was fed up with his dodging her question. She seized his arm, her nails threatening to sink into his skin, “PLEASE ANSWER ME! Can you forgive her?”

With his eyelids still anchored up solidly as if he couldn’t feel anything, he replied coolly, “Isn’t it odd how we think of everything as either black or white? You forgive… you don’t forgive…

“Ginny, see the many colors in these photos?”

“What does that have to do with my question?” she demanded in frustration, loosening her grip on him.

He ignored her protests and pointed to the clouds philosophically, “See the skies? Daylight and nighttime… it’s still the same horizons, but notice all the colors that filled the space in between?

“Ginny, the question is not about forgiving a person or not. It’s whether you’re willing to accept all the possibilities, all the colors, rhythms in a person… that no one is perfect, but…

“It’s up to you to choose to focus on the good… the things you like to see… in the person you choose to love.

“It’s like a record album. It comes with fast tunes, followed by fluffy love songs… You don’t have to like every song.”

Ginny stared at Oliver confusedly.

“Ginny, look at the sunset. It is bad because it is robbing the bright sun away… but look how stunning it is… all the amazing colors it brings to the skies.”

He turned to her solidly, his eyes sparking earnestly, “I love Yuriko. She made a decision that hurt me deeply, but I focus on all the good things she brought into my life. That’s what love is all about, the ability to see past flaws and mistakes… to be able to withstand pain… tests and challenges.

“She did something that hurt me but it will not stop me from loving her,” he said determinedly. “It will take more than that to make me stop. Maybe if I die or something.”

Ginny’s mind and heart were debating relentlessly with each other, working their way to loosen her tight grip on her past as well as Oliver’s arm. Without realizing it, her claws slipped off his skin.

“Of course I am deeply hurt. Of course I am angry, but do I not know it was equally as punishing for her, if not more, when she decided to leave… why she could only come up… with ten words to say to me?

“I know Harry. He is a good person. He will never hurt people on purpose. And if he does, he must have his reasons, and he will feel awful about it.

“Whatever he did to you, I’m sure he has paid his debts, with guilt and remorse.

“At least Harry is in close proximity with you… unlike me and Yuriko, separated by miles and miles of waters... We can’t even talk about our problem.

“All I have is the rain chain and those wind chimes she gave me, birthday presents to hold on to.”

Ginny suddenly remembered her birthday gift from Harry. She was finally ready to open it, and to accept him.

As Oliver was still occupied with his thoughts, Ginny snatched the picture of the Leaky Cauldron from him. After staring at it defiantly, she would come to a decision. Just like what Oliver did at the train station, she tore up her past in a thousand pieces and hurled it into the air. Watching the pieces drift away, the wall she built to separate her and Harry had finally cascaded. She would accept Harry.

“Thanks, Oliver. I know what to do now,” the words flew out of her lips as she bounced up weightlessly, brushing off the effects of her epiphany, her mind empty except for booklets and booklets of Harry’s handsome images and the possible contents of his gift.

“Oh, by the way, did you fix your freaky doorknob?” she laughed, readying herself to head back so she could open Harry’s present and find him.

Oliver shook his head sarcastically and handed her the other picture, “I don’t want to take away a reason from you… you know… to sneak into my room and sleep in my bed in the future.”

Ginny giggled energetically and smacked the top of his head, the symptoms of her cold seemingly disappeared, “It’s late. You wanna head back to the castle?”

“Er… you go ahead,” Oliver replied with a weak grin that was being powered solely by her uplifting spirits as his casual composure was beginning to unravel.

Ginny paused gratefully, “Oliver… the jigsaw puzzle is almost finished. I… just lost two pieces for some reason.

“Remember what you promised me when I complete it?” she beamed.

He rolled his eyes, “I have a date with a certain nosy redhead at Angeline’s Café.”

“Oliver… one more thing!” she cheered.

He turned his face up.

Ginny leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, “Thank you for everything. You’re a good friend.”

As he watched her gallop happily back to the castle, his head gradually collapsed under the weight of his emotions. To his amazement, he had just realized his eyes had ceased blinking the entire time that he was talking with her. Once she disappeared safely from his view, he quietly unlocked his eyelids to let them blanket and defrost his frozen eyes for the first time. Gradually, the corners of the ice cubes began to melt, giving way to a drop of water rolling down his cheek.

“Ginny, I hope… you’ll smile… just like how Yuriko once described,” he wished with a voice that was as ailing as hers earlier, “and regain… the beautiful look… of a girl… in love.

“I’ll make sure… that it will be Harry… taking you to Angeline’s Café.”

He climbed on his broom and sputtered to the lonely skies once again, to continue his futile mission, the search for the discarded sounds of his happiness, recapture yesterday’s sensations of affection, and rejuvenate the shooting star that had since fizzled past its pinnacle. As ruthless as it was, the more he wants it, the more it would elude him.

Chapter 28 The Autumn In Her Eyes

“WHERE. THE. HECK. IS. IT?” Ginny demanded her unsympathetic bedpost frustratingly, yanking her hair into a knot as she turned her bed upside down, searching for the pale blue box.

“I knocked twice but you…” Hermione opened the door and tiptoed into her room quietly, only to find her feet trampling over something squishy. It was Ginny’s twisted blanket.

“Have you gone mad?” she shrieked, appalled by the war zone in front of her eyes. “What �“ ARE -- you doing? I thought you weren’t feeling well!”

Ginny didn’t respond as Hermione leaped over the heap and clawed her way to the open window.

“Go away, Hermione!” Ginny barked. “NO! Don’t close the window. I’m boiling hot!”

“Wait a minute!” Hermione distractingly retrieved a pale blue box from the windowsill outside, dodging an unwelcome cushion that Ginny launched at her in the process. Oblivious to the fading image of an owl flying away in the dark skies because she was too busy assessing her catch, she immediately recognized it as Harry’s present.

“Have you gone mad?” she picked up the cushion and hurled it at Ginny to seize her attention. “Are you hanging his present out to dry or something… like a form of symbolic punishment?”

Seeing her prize, Ginny lunged towards her and snatched it hungrily, forgetting to attack Hermione back for hitting her with a cushion.

Hermione was now sporting a thin knowing smirk as her mind rotated back in time, to the morning of Ginny’s birthday at the Burrow, and Ginny’s apparent frosty reaction to Harry’s gift, in contrast to her exaggerated cheerful reception to Oliver’s jigsaw puzzle. Her voice cords still contained every vibration of their shocking conversation, highlighted by how unusually critical Ginny was of Harry. That morning, she was forced to listen to Ginny moodily comparing his stiffness, unresponsiveness, and lack of affection to that of a Christmas fruitcake. Ginny was obviously spiteful to see her seductive efforts to signal Harry to proceed further did not work. Disagreeing with Ginny’s viewpoint completely, Hermione understood Harry was simply being a respectful gentleman, but she was too aghast with Ginny’s uncharacteristic behavior and she failed to get a word in to defend him.

It was because that day, Ginny rendered her speechless for the first time with her excessively blunt revelations, when she scornfully shared all the intimate details of what she claimed to have done to Harry at the Burrow in the privacy of her bedroom, her tactics ranging from tickling him, making him sleep on top of her like a human blanket, to using his mouth to perfect the techniques of a surfing tongue. However, what stuck out the most was the unnecessary newsflash that Ginny’s fingers had visited every part of his skin. The resulting carnal image of her two best friends swimming in her head was a vision she had never imagined before, and certainly one she did not want to envision ever again.

“Back at the Burrow, you tossed him away, and now you’re hunting him down like he’s the last Qudditch Snitch!” she challenged piercingly, her tone laced with barbs as she rinsed her brain of the offensive images once again.

Ginny hugged the box and gazed at it preciously, ignoring Hermione’s catty taunts. Studying her award carefully, it appeared to have gone through a rough patch. It was very bloated and bursting at the seams for some reason. There was a couple of band-aids stuck awkwardly on one of the edges, patterned like a cross, seemingly keeping the contents tenuously from falling apart. The band-aids made the gift look like as if it was badly wounded.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Another five months? Open the box now!” clapped Hermione, feeling every right to be present for the grand opening, at the same time praying once again Harry did not get her a log for the fireplace. Her cheeks were inflating with anticipation, matching Ginny’s excitement inch for inch.

Ginny carefully undid the wrapping paper and opened the tumultuous box. Filled to the rim, there was an array of items squished together, three to be exact, giving her the distinct impression that it was like a packed can of sardines. She carefully retrieved the first item, a plain looking pink bottle with liquid inside.

Hermione snatched the bottle, her eyes rolling in disbelief as fire was shooting out of them, the flames bursting the air of anticipation pressuring her cheeks, “BU�”BBLES??

“Harry got you -- a bottle of soap -- to… blow bubbles?” she etched the price tag off disapprovingly, clouds of steam puffing outrageously out of her cheeks, in her mind giving Harry an absolute failing grade for his childish efforts.

Too busy to react to such an immature gift, Ginny continued digging into the contents. Her fingers were attracted to a shiny medallion that was overshadowing a black plastic cube crowded next to it.

“Hermione, I think this is the real gift,” she defended her precious Harry with an angular voice as she retrieved the golden locket and pushed the button, releasing the cover.

Hermione’s eyes immediately dilated to the maximum as she tossed the silly bottle aside, her chin dangling brightly.

“Gin! It’s… an Amoré…” she spurted breathlessly. “I can’t believe Harry gave you an Amoré… I knew it! I knew he had it in him!”

Ginny extended her face towards Hermione, eagerly waiting for her friend’s usual annoying know-it-all attitude that always accompanied her snotty outbursts of wisdom.

“It’s a compass of the heart,” Hermione explained impressively, mindfully altering Harry’s grade at gift giving to that of a passing one.

“According to my book of Enchanted Ornaments, the Amoré’s needle guides the holder to the person who resides in the holder’s heart.”

Gazing at the magic needle, Ginny suddenly found her eyes buttered with the sweetest honey as booklets and booklets of Harry’s boyish face packed her head again. Not wanting Hermione to see her glee, she quickly blinked the honey away but her cheeks would betray her and turned crimson.

“See where it’s pointing? It means you’ll find him… you know…” she hesitated because she remembered Ginny’s explicit request to stop matching her and Harry together.

“Gin,” she muttered calmly. “I know you told me to mind my own business… but… I just want to say… I think… he’s falling for you… all over again.”

Ginny responded by burying her head down to hide her reddened face and the shy grin dying to come out.

“What does it matter… with what happened last year?” Hermione added uncomfortably, slowly inviting herself into what she believed was forbidden territory. “He doesn’t… remember any of it. I know you love him. Why don’t you er… consider…”

Hermione stopped because she recognized the ominous silence that surrounded her words. Luckily, Ginny could not hold her composure much longer, and to Hermione’s surprise, Ginny giggled and clutched the metal against her chest, her cheeks flushing behind a smile.

“Ginny…” she announced happily, seeing the look of a smitten girl finally returning, signaling to her she had forgiven him.

Hermione instinctively threw her arms around her, confirming her suspicions excitedly, “Oh my goodness! Wait till Ron finds out about this! He’s been so guilty breaking the dove statue!”

Ginny hobbled out of the tight hug, “Have you seen… Harry? I thought he was supposed to sneak Sam into Hogsmeade, but earlier… I think he…”

She stopped because she didn’t want Hermione to know he was in her quarters earlier, a fact she still wasn’t too sure about.

“I was with Ron… but… we… never made it to Hogsmeade!” she fired angrily.

“Ron’s mad at me… and ran off… because I decided I’ll be spending Christmas with my parents instead of at the Burrow! I don’t know or care where he is!”

“Ooh, how dare you!” screeched Ginny mockingly, rolling her eyes discreetly, because compared to the magnitude of problems she had with Harry this past year, Hermione’s little disagreement seemed too trivial to be worthy of a newsbreak.

Wanting to shift the conversation back to Harry, Hermione paced evasively past the dresser and spotted the jigsaw puzzle and its two missing pieces, one of which was in her pocket now.

“Ginny, what made you -- really change �“ your view?” she beamed and sat carefully on her disheveled bed.

“A combination of things… and people… Sam… you of course…” said Ginny breezily. “But it was what Oliver said earlier that opened my eyes.”

“You were with Oliver?” her face imploded scandalously.

“Hermione, please!” she zapped infuriatingly. “For the last time, there’s nothing between us. Oliver likes to tease but that’s it! He sees me like a little sister. He has no special feelings for me. Even �“ HE �“ keeps telling me he’s too old for me!”

Ginny quipped, “Haven’t you noticed the engagement ring around his adam’s apple? He’s already taken, or… at least he wants the girls to think that way! Maybe he should wear it on his finger instead.”

“I don’t look at Oliver’s adam’s apple!” gasped Hermione appallingly.

“Yeah sure,” Ginny raised one eyebrow wickedly at Hermione in response to her wide opened mouth. “Your eyes check out the rest of his anatomy but certainly not his adam’s apple!

“Anyway, I promised him I wouldn’t tell but let’s just say that… if you’re right about this Amoré thing… and if he were holding it, the needle would definitely NOT be pointing at me even if I were parked in front of him!

“It will be pointing… unfortunately… as far away… as another country,” she sighed sympathetically.

“Forget about Oliver!” Hermione seared impatiently. “Harry! Talk Harry!”

“After the performance, I realize Harry… is… you know... sort of… back to his old self with me again.”

“I guess with all those illuminating shapes he conjured…” Hermione swallowed her judgmental laugh and shook her head obnoxiously, “especially that huge thumping heart, his intentions can’t be more clearer than that.”

“Oliver taught me that if I truly do love him �“ Harry �““ she added his name blatantly to ensure Hermione would not stare at her scandalously again, “I should be able to get past anything, and focus on the good, because no one is perfect.

“It was better having him in my life,” she smiled honestly.

“I guess for me… it will be like having to restart all over again, and letting go of the past, like it was a bad dream…

“As if… as if… we never knew each other before.”

“As if we never knew each other before…” Hermione repeated longingly, her mind vividly situating itself in the common room of two years ago, watching an awkward Harry kissing Ginny under the mistletoe, once on the forehead, and weeks later, on the lips. Even though those memories were no more, she took solace in the fact that Ginny was willing to accept Harry again. She was also happy Ginny firmly clarified that there was nothing between her and Oliver. It was no longer necessary to hold on to her puzzle piece.

“Look what I found underneath your bed,” Hermione opened her palm delightedly. “It must have… fallen there by accident.”

Hermione got up and inserted the piece in one of the spaces in the jigsaw, “Now, we just have to find the last piece to get this beautiful portrait complete. I wonder where is it?”

She had expected Ginny to be thrilled by her discovery, only that it was met with soundlessness.

“Ginny, why so quiet all of a sudden?” she turned around to find her fumbling inside the pale blue box, and pulling out a black plastic cube soon after.

Hermione walked curiously next to her because she was fascinated by the many glass panes on all sides, making the cube look like the magnified eyes of a bee.

Ginny pressed the button on the bottom and the glass windows suddenly lit up glowingly.

“Ginny, look at the ceiling… and the walls!” she shrieked.

She snapped her head up and her eyes were immediately mesmerized by what was surrounding her. As Hermione turned off the lights, she saw the most beautiful nighttime of skies. A set of stars was blinking over her in an array of colors, twinkling and floating with the other smaller stars. A crescent moon was swirling in the wall. All the shapes had a life of their own.

Gazing at the artistic stars as they turned bright green brought Ginny back to last year’s birthday, when Harry prolonged the celebrations secretly in her room with a bottle of champagne. She fell asleep because of the effects of the champagne, only to be awakened by the sounds of dancing rain, and she found herself warm in his arms and nestled on his chest. He was watching over her with his green eyes, and they resembled a pair of green stars, gazing at her protectively, to make sure she was safe. This memory would usually trigger tears of sadness. This time, however, her eyes were glossed with tears as sweet as honey.

“It’s a star ceiling lighting kit!” Hermione smiled innovatively. Although personally, she thought the gift was silly, but judging by Ginny’s emotional reaction, she understood there was a deep meaning behind it. As a result, she gladly gave Harry the top score at gift giving.

“I need to find Harry!” Ginny pulled herself together and zoomed out of her room, with Hermione hot on her trail.

As she sprinted down the common room stairs, she would get her wish, when she noticed Harry was trudging downstairs soullessly with his Firebolt and a rather stuffed school bag.

“Harry!” Ginny called after his trail breathlessly as she purposely collided into him from behind. There was no mistaken identity this time. It was him.

Clearly not prepared to hear her voice and having her stand so close to him for the first time since he regained his memory, Harry’s feet were nailed to the floor as he slowly engaged her shakily with his tired sad eyes. The small distance between them allowed him to clearly see the traces of tears in her deep brown eyes. He now understood why they seemingly always had ripples of water varnished over them this past year, making them opaque. Looking closer remorsefully, the tiny pearls over her pupils resembled abandoned autumn brown leaves that have been covered with morning dewdrops, and they were swirling to form a pair of his reflections staring back at him, the reflection of the despicable person who gave her the permanent autumn in her eyes.

Without realizing it, they were standing in the exact spot as the many poignant times before, by the staircase, with Hermione watching them clairvoyantly from afar. Before she knew it, her eyes were trembling. Seeing them together like this was almost surreal.

“Mistle… toe!” Hermione gladly squeaked through her tears, as she glanced up and noticed the common room was already decorated in preparation for Christmas. Indeed, just like many times before, a mistletoe would find itself fittingly above the staircase, shining deservingly on Harry and Ginny once again, rekindling the moment that was lost.

Chapter 29 A Smoldering List Of Promises

“Forget about me! Ginny.... JUST LEAVE ME…

“I… DON’T… DESERVE…YOU…” Barking in Harry’s ears was the sound of his own pounding voice. It appeared only he could hear it, judging by Ginny’s calm expressions in front of him, but the volume trembled the air so much it seemingly created an invisible wedge between him and Ginny.

“You’re right, Harry. You don’t deserve her…”

Harry finally discovered the source of these voices; they originated from Ginny’s autumn eyes that hauntingly housed the reflections of himself, staring reproachfully at him. They were chanting back to him mercilessly, the tone of each passage hammering against his eardrums as he stood in front of her under the mistletoe. As he could recall painfully, the reflections were reciting the words that roared out of his mouth when they were in the secret passageway to Hogsmeade, when he was violently shaking her by the shoulders to make her listen. Up until then, he had never raised his voice to her like that, and consequently, tears were streaming out of her eyes. He made her cry that day, and from that point on, she had to cry every night because of him, when in his mind, good men are not supposed to make women cry.

”You always get her in trouble… you’re so bad for her…” his reflections continued to chorus their unforgiving but truthful opinion.

“Harry! You don’t know what a mistletoe is?” asked Hermione incredulously as she unwittingly punctured his verbose reflections in a timely fashion. As the final word twinkled out of her lips, it quickly dawned on her that she had uttered this to him two years ago. She found herself leaning on the wall for support, because Ron was not around to hold up her weakened knees. It was obvious the sight of the perfect picture had overcome her, just like the way she was stirred immensely by their combined efforts as a couple at the competition. She remembered Ron’s shoulder was like a foundation that evening in the audience stands. The joy and pain of seeing her two best friends seemingly reuniting after such a horrible tragedy was finally sinking in. It overwhelmed her so much she had forgotten to question why he had his Firebolt and a stuffed school bag with him this late in the evening.

“Come on, Harry, give Ginny a kiss,” Hermione urged with a cracked voice, still unaware that Harry had regained his full memory and that he too, was twisting about the very same déjà vu feeling, except that he was twisting it under the dense fog of hopelessness and remorse.

Seeing Harry frozen, Ginny assumed her man was just being shy in front of a yapping third-wheeled Hermione, so she boldly took the initiative and gently placed her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. To her surprise, she was not blushing at all, although her eyes were glazed slightly with tears, but she was convinced they were ones of joy.

The identical settings reminded Harry that he once disappointed Ginny when he kissed her forehead under the mistletoe. Arguing with himself, he was not going to repeat this mistake again, and that it had to be her lips tonight and nowhere else, but deep inside, he knew he no longer deserved to get close to her like this.

However, he realized he must please them. He must give them what they wanted. It was the least he could do, so he willingly warmed up his lips, closed his eyes, and kissed her lips, in front of a beaming Hermione.

As soon as their lips met, Ginny felt all the juices igniting like fireworks in her stomach, warming up her entire body. It had been awhile since the last time she kissed him like this. She did kiss him by the staircase after the performance but that one was before she had forgiven him. This time, the atmosphere was weightless and effortless, and genuine. The sensations of the habitual knife slicing her heart were no more. She had passed Oliver’s test with flying colors.

Unable to withstand the relentless mounting remorse on his shoulders, Harry automatically pulled away just as Ginny was about to advance further.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Ginny poked his arm playfully and magnetized her eyes with his, accidentally detecting the concealed distance evaporating out of him, not knowing her eyes were the one thing he could no longer bear to face, the rippling autumn triggering knifing words to erupt in his head again.

“Ginny, I’ve always wondered who put the autumn in your eyes…

“He was the boy you hugged when he felt alone,

“the cheeks you kissed when he was troubled,
“the bones you supported when they were brittle,
“the body you gave fire to when he was cold,
“the soul you mended when he lost hope,
“the heart you filled with love when he was hollow…

“But he was the one who gave you… the autumn in your eyes…”

Clenching his teeth, Harry shook his head laboriously and held her hand.

“Nothing,” he heard himself reply abruptly, hating himself more by the second for his continued failure to confess and apologize.

“Nothing.”

***

Under Hermione’s suggestion, Harry would find himself taking Ginny up the mountain for a nighttime star gazing date. Although the warmth that was Ginny was solidly wrapped around his back as he maneuvered across the starry skies, he never felt more alone and soulless as the excruciating details of what he did continued to punish his mind convolutedly. Acting like a freezing body of water, the cold temperatures would extinguish the torch of fire in his heart…

“It was supposed to be... our last hug… when you held me… while I cried… by the lakeside…

“I told you to leave me… forget me...

"I didn’t want to head back to the hospital. Why did you take me there?

“You should have left me in the passageway, then… you wouldn’t have to suffer this pain all over again…

“Why did you invite me to stay at the Burrow, and… having me in your face, reminding you everyday what I've done to you…”

Slowly but surely, his illogical mind wandered back further, to two years ago, when Ginny was stricken by the dream curse, and the words he pledged to her by her bedside at the hospital. As he continued to steer his Firebolt mindlessly, he wondered achingly whether tonight, everything could play out to the promise he made to her that day…

"I made a mistake that day and I’m truly sorry. To make it up to you I can take you for a ride with my Firebolt. I promise I’ll take you to wherever you want to go, anywhere, anytime…

”I’ll make sure you’ll hold on to me tight. Maybe I’ll shake the broom just a bit on purpose and blame it on the wind, so you’ll always hold me tight…"

“Harry, what’re you doing?” Ginny giggled loudly and held him tighter because the broom was suddenly vibrating madly.

“It’s… the wind…” he blamed innocently as he caressed her hand and pressed it deliberately into his belly, asking himself somberly if this would be the last time they would fly together like this.

As soon as he blamed the wind for which there was none, a spark crossed the corner of Ginny’s eyes and it triggered a drop of tear, but she knew it was safe for her to cry a little. Snuggling onto his back, she could hear his thumping heartbeat now, and satisfyingly, the poignant and deep rhythms sounded exactly like she remembered. Unbeknownst to him, she was pondering about the same thing he was, as she carefully harmonized her own heartbeat with his, whether the fairy tale the old Harry once whispered into her ear two years ago in the hospital wing would begin to play itself out tonight…

"Then at night I’ll take you to the mountain top overseeing the castle for a picnic in the snow. I’ll pull Hermione away from Ron so she will teach me all the spells to create the perfect food, wine, and candles that dance in the dark…”

Every single living creature surrounding them was already quietly in deep sleep when they arrived at the mountain top, except for the noisy emotions clanking in their hearts. The gentle breeze resembled the light breathing of the night clouds.

“AAARRRGHHHH…” Ginny suddenly found herself roaring freely into the silent air towards the castle as she stood by the cliff. She concluded her insanity with her lady-like signature giggles. As the echoes traveled back diligently, the scream was magnified by her clear and uncluttered voice. She had never felt so carefree and peaceful. It was obvious all the symptoms from her cold were gone.

When she turned around, checking for Harry’s shocked reaction to her crazy behavior, she found him shaking his head. But he was smiling, a smile that seemingly woke up all the sleeping beings around them.

Ginny rushed over to him and seized the shopping bags Hermione had eagerly packed for them for this event. Hermione was certainly a good friend and definitely a master of spells and charms for this sort of thing. In the window of less than five minutes, she was able to gather all the items needed for a picnic under the stars, including a large bottle of fresh cold champagne.

Harry helped set the candles on the ground as Ginny lit them, illuminating the air around them, the flames competing with the stars in the sky. Seeing the cold champagne, he opened the bottle and poured two glasses. Knowing that champagne would put Ginny to sleep, Harry realized what he had to do when the night was over.

“The castle is truly beautiful,” Ginny pointed elegantly before noticing Harry had already wandered away from her. Curiously, he was holding a tree branch, tranquilly carving something in the snow. Like a cat, she sneaked up behind him and closed her hands over his watery eyes before spotting his artwork from the heart…

”And I’ll carve a heart in the snow and surround it with candles…"

“Ginny, I think it’s a bit crooked but you know… I’m not much of an artist,” muttered Harry apologetically as the branch finally connected the boundary of his heart. Disagreeing with him, Ginny’s eyes danced like the candle flames as a sense of surrealism swept over her. Watching him surround the snowy heart with candles, making it come roaring alive, her heart began to warm up glowingly too. She was beginning to understand why she fell in love with him.

“Ginny, isn’t the flame of a candle… amazing, the way it flickers?” asked Harry philosophically, examining one of them and teasing it with his finger.

“It is bright and hot, but at the same time…” Harry suddenly winced when he forgot to pull back his finger, “the flame… it is… very fragile…

“All it takes is… a blow of the wind… and it will…” he blew the flame out in one breath.

“In the blink of an eye, it’ll disappear…”

He peered at the smoldering wick closely, from which a trail of fresh smoke was coming out, “It’s as if it’s telling us… there are things that… even though they’re bright and hot at one point… it can be fragile and-“

Harry immediately bounced back as the wick suddenly re-ignited into a fresh blaze. It was one second away from turning the hair in his nostrils into ashes.

“There! It’s back!” she laughed subtly, tucking her wand back into her blouse and sipping more champagne.

“But the flame… is not the same one as before,” he whimpered mutedly, rubbing his nose.

He proceeded to refill her glass as they quietly rested on the blanket, sitting side by side. It was already her third helping…

”Then I’ll point you the stars and make up funny star names along the way to make you giggle…”

“The name of that one is �“ Sunbean �“!” he asserted confidently.

“You mean �“ Sunbeam �“” she glared at him and giggled disjointedly after another mouthful of champagne. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she was too overjoyed to remember she was especially sensitive to the effects.

“No, it’s �“ Sunbean �“ spelled with an �“ n �“ …” he laughed softly.

”And when you point at them I’ll reach for your hand and I won’t let go…"

“I like that one! What’s the name of that one, Harry?” she pointed vaguely as Harry gently reached out and held her hand, triggering a delayed but sweet smile from her. He could sense she was beginning to be succumbed by the champagne.

“Her name is… Moonbean…” he heard himself mumble profoundly, gazing at her flushed cheeks and noticing her eyes were getting heavy.

“Ginny, I want to tell you… Moonbean will… soon be eclipsed by the clouds… and then… she’ll be… gone…

“As beautiful and powerful as she is… she can’t avoid the inevitable… that… the clouds will eventually… blanket over her… and she’ll…

“It’s like… there are some beautiful things in this world… but unfortunately they are just an illusion…

“The more you want it to be real… the more elusive it is…

“Do you understand, Ginny?” he asked choppily.

“Uh? What were you saying?” Ginny recharged her eyes, feeling slightly guilty for not paying attention to Harry’s ramblings about illusion and reality.

“Oh, the clouds…” she sputtered dimly. “They’ll eventually drift… away and then I’ll see… what did you call it? … Moonbean… again.”

“But it won’t be the same star,” insisted Harry fruitlessly. “Moonbean will be no more.”

”It’ll get cold at night. So I’ll take off my jacket and scarf and wrap you in them to make sure you’re always warm by my side…”

“Cold, Ginny?” he removed his jacket and scarf and wrapped them around her, as she wavered to his side dizzyingly. Disoriented, she fractionally missed his shoulder and accidentally tumbled to the ground.

“Harry, you’re not supposed to drop me,” she hopped up mindlessly as Harry gently brushed the snow off her hair.

“Remember the performance… when you caught me in the last second?” Ginny yawned faintly as she started to hum the song they performed to.

Because of her weakened senses, she failed to notice the shadow of his anguish face at this moment, in response to the realization that the sun would soon rise, when tonight would slip into yesterday, and his time would be up.

As the sleep demon was beginning to close down her defiant eyelids, Ginny knew she shouldn’t have consumed so much champagne. A heavy mist of uncertainty was flickering inside her, but she was unsure how it originated. For some reason, she could foretell that she must not let her eyes close, because a spacious voice in her head was informing her that her eyelids would symbolize the blanket of clouds covering the stars that Harry was just describing. In response, she was determined to not let them cover her view of Harry, because when she reopens them, he might be gone, just like the stars.

Seeing Harry’s face disintegrating in front of her at this point because of her deteriorating vision, she pulled him closer to get a better view, so she could get a confirmation that he was still by her side, because she was terrified he would leave her behind.

“Harry…” she made one more attempt to clarify her opaque vision, and she gazed at him with the face of a little girl. “Smile for me. I want to see… a dimpled smile.”

Biting his lip, Harry summoned all his energy to comply for her, as tears drowned in his heart.

It did not matter. As Oliver taught her, it was up to her to choose to focus on the good, the things she liked to see, in the person she chose to love. Despite all the imperfections and tears on his face, his dimpled smile would still register itself beautifully in her heart.

Cuddled inside his jacket and scarf, she finally realized she wasted too much time keeping him at a distance this past year. From now on, she would no longer demand him of anything. She would grant him all the freedom, all the benefit of the doubt, and all the time and explanations he needed. Even though he appeared sad now, she wouldn’t press for reasons why.

That was why she must take the opportunity to let him know how she truly felt before the sleep demon would conquer her. Afraid of a missed opportunity, she did not want to waste more time; she was determined to make him hers tonight. She must do more than just tickle him. She pledged that before she fell asleep, she must surrender herself to him intimately even if it would require her to exchange her dignity for him tonight. She was convinced this was truly what she wanted, and that it wasn’t the champagne unleashing her inhibitions. And if she did fall asleep afterwards, may his aroma stay in her dreams, and continue to embrace her, she wished to herself.

Acting on her mission, Ginny lunged at Harry’s chest, her hungry hands yearningly eating up his every angle, her eyes dictating them to peel off his barriers, so they could grace his bare hot skin like they once had. The jacket that was draped on her shoulder obediently slipped into the snow so it would not be in her way.

Just when her hands were about to melt into him, he surprised her by quickly grabbing hold of her wrists to make her stop, as gently as he could, because he was afraid of hurting her with his strength. She quickly broke free of his tenuous grip and reached for his waist, trying to find her way inside him before he again halted her hands.

Refusing to give up, she saw herself shoving him to the ground as she climbed on top of him. He was stunned on his back as she sat up, with him wedged tightly between her thighs. Making sure he would get a full display of her body, she adjusted his glasses and proceeded to unbutton her blouse. She hoped it would do the trick and unseal his desires, but her fingers were entangled frustratingly because of the effects from the champagne.

Just before she successfully undid her second button, he suddenly bounced up and latched his arms tightly around her, immobilizing her. She found herself no longer able to move her seductive hands and arms that were trapped in his tight grip. However, her lips and her voice would gladly continue her mission.

“Harry… I love…” her voice lost its direction when he quickly silenced her by jamming her lips with his as he continued to lock her arms securely with his embrace. He gently guided her to the ground with his weight so she could move no further, while keeping his knees against the ground so he wouldn’t crush her, so she would still be comfortable. More importantly for him however, his knees would precariously ensure a safe guarded distance between their yearning lower bodies.

Thinking Harry was going to make his next advance any moment now, she let go of her struggles as she rested peacefully underneath him, with his lips still sealed with hers. Her heart was smiling, thinking she would finally get her wish, that Harry would finally make his intimate imprint on her, and after tonight, he would be hers forever. Lying on her back, she didn’t want to fall asleep because she wanted to savor this experience as well as give him a night he would never forget, but her eyelids would ultimately fail her because of the champagne.

”Please…” she pleaded silently to Harry, hoping he would devour her now before it was too late. But it was futile. Before she fell asleep, she begged the sleep demon to pass a message to Harry, the one she failed to deliver moments ago because he had jammed her lips. She really wanted to let him know that…

”Harry, I love you…”

After waiting for a few minutes in the motionless embrace, Harry could sense she had fallen asleep. He gently loosened his grip on her as he pulled his guilty lips away.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I have to stop you. I can’t let you do this.

“I don’t deserve you. Please forgive me…” Harry muttered soundlessly.

He carefully buttoned up her blouse and covered her with his jacket. As he gazed at her sleeping image, he could spot the snow in her hair and the lines and angles on her face, knowing very well the origins of all those scars. What his reflections said to him earlier was right, he admitted to himself. He now realized he was the one who put the deep autumn in her eyes. He put the angles and lines on her face. He stole her giggles and her spark. She had gone quiet because of him.

As much as he wanted to make love to her, he couldn’t let it happen. He didn’t want to hurt her more; he realized he didn’t deserve her love.

He had originally planned to secretly run away tonight after his return from St. Mungro’s Hospital. This was the only solution he could think of in such a brief period of time. As irrational as it was, leaving Hogwarts and Ginny was the only option. That was why he had his Firebolt and a stuffed school bag, with which he hastily packed. Even though he promised Samantha he would never leave Ginny, he realized he had to break that promise for Ginny’s sake.

“Ginny, Dumbledore’s wrong. You’re not better off with me in your life,” he muttered calmly.

However, when he ran into Ginny, he momentarily changed his mind after being spellbound by her again. For a minute, he considered the path of pretending that he didn’t recover his memory and he would carry on with her as if everything was normal. Alternatively, he could apologize and Ginny would forgive him. But he crossed out both of these choices when he caught her autumn eyes.

”I can’t look you in the eye… without realizing the truth of what I’ve done to you…”

Hermione was indeed a good friend. Her suggestion would allow him to savor a perfect night with Ginny before leaving for good, so he would have something to treasure, but he would end up hating himself more for it.

“Once again, I failed, as a coward, to apologize to you. Can I look for something to blame for my cowardice? Perhaps say that people are generally selfish beings…

“As a selfish person, I wanted to take this perfect night with me, and see your face of yesterday again, and hear you laugh...

“I know I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye if you were awake, because I’m a coward... I have to do it while you’re asleep…”

Absorbing her sleeping image into his heart, Harry remembered the last pledge he made to her by the hospital bed two years ago…

”I’ll find the perfect opportunity in the dark… to surprise you by leaning over to your ear…and say…"

“Ginny, it feels like I’ve made too many promises to you… because I’m not fulfilling even half of them… because I’m no longer able to…

“Instead of saying I love you like I promised that day at the hospital, I have to say…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly into her ears as he tucked her inside his jacket.

The candle flames of the heart had since fizzled away, except for one. Conspicuous and stubborn, the lone soldier was the one Harry had extinguished but Ginny relit shortly after.

“In the future, when you remember me, I hope… you’ll only remember… the good times we shared together...

“We did have some good times…” he chuckled solemnly. In the background, he could hear the singing of birds, signaling to him that dawn was approaching.

“When you’ll happily begin your next love journey,” he hastily inserted the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle into her palm, “I’ll… also sadly… commence my own separate journey…”

When he found himself leaning closer to her lips, he quickly zoomed back. Grabbing his stuffed schoolbag, he mounted his broom and sailed away, knowing he had to do it hurriedly before he changed his mind, before his heart would re-ignite for her once again. He could not allow himself to turn back. He must fly away as far as possible, even though it was a journey without a destination.

“Please let tonight be our conclusion…”


A/N: Chapter 10 Lost In Reflection from story 1 was where Harry was thinking out loud and began to voice all these promises to Ginny. I hope you'll revisit that chapter.

Chapter 30 At The Brink Of Love and Pain

“Miss Granger, I wish to speak to Harry. Have you seen him this morning?” asked Dumbledore with a quiver of unsettledness in his voice as he slowly entered the common room.

Hermione was slightly taken back by the Headmaster’s unusual presence in the common room, especially at such an early hour, “Professor, Harry was with Ginny last night but I haven’t seen him since.”

There had to be a reason for Dumbledore’s somber demeanor. Logically, a small voice in her head was insightfully mumbling to her she should erase the protruding and triumphant smile on her face, one that originated involuntarily from the sheer excitement of hearing herself say Harry and Ginny together in the same sentence.

“Sir, what’s wrong?”

Before Dumbledore could reply, the portrait opened as Ginny trudged inside soullessly, draped awkwardly in Harry’s jacket, looking terribly disoriented. Her palm was numb from coldness; it was unclear whether she was numb from the winter winds or by having just been abandoned at the mountain top, a fact she was still desperately refusing to believe. Her only course of action was to reconcile all the righteous reasons behind his disappearance, mindfully ignoring those she did not want to hear, even though they were ringing loudly in her ears. Without knowing it, she was still clutching a piece of jigsaw puzzle, the one he inserted in her unconscious hand before he left, the final piece needed to complete Oliver’s puzzle of Angeline’s Café.

“Ginny, where’s Harry? Weren’t you with him?” Hermione sizzled surprisingly, studying the invisible air next to her, assuming innocently he was walking next to Ginny but merely hiding underneath his invisibility cloak because of the embarrassment of being caught by the Headmaster for sneaking out in the night. Could she also be in denial, choosing to disregard Ginny’s broken shadow?

“Ahh… so that’s why Harry wasn’t in his quarters all night,” Ron’s condescending voice echoed from the staircase as he slowly made his way down.

“You’re in big trouble if Mum finds out you two have been--” He quickly stopped his jokes after Dumbledore’s beard entered his view.

Ginny’s last chapter of hope in her heart dissolved into dust; Harry was not back at his quarters with Ron. It was her confirmation she did not want to hear. He was now as far away from her as she could possibly imagine, except she didn’t understand the reasons behind his departure. To her surprise, she was not crying. Perhaps she had used up her quota of tears for this lifetime.

“Sis, are you okay?” asked Ron worriedly.

“Miss Weasley. You were with Harry last night?” Dumbledore clarified.

“We went to the mountain top together… but I fell asleep,” Ginny recited emptily, as if she had practiced this speech a thousand times. “When I woke up, he was… gone.

“On my way down, I bumped into Hagrid and I rode with him back to the castle.”

“Did he mention anything… out of the ordinary? Did he say where he’s going?” asked Dumbledore, peering at Ginny’s bewildered state interestingly.

Ginny shook her head slightly, staring hollowly at the mistletoe atop the staircase.

“So where is Harry?” asked Hermione openly. “Did something awful happen to him?”

“I’m afraid… he’s no longer in the castle premises,” the Headmaster replied solemnly.

Both Hermione and Ron gasped at the shocking news, but Ginny just stood motionless, as if she had already anticipated his departure.

Dumbledore trudged towards Ginny carefully. She couldn’t help but recognize his somber footsteps; in uncanny fashion, they reminded her so much of the time he walked towards her in front of the hospital room to deliver the bad news about Harry losing his memory of her.

“Miss Weasley… I have something important about Harry… to inform you.

“Harry… regained his memory yesterday…”

Just like the last time, Ginny felt like the heels of her shoes suddenly crumbled underneath her as each word hammered her eardrums like arrows.

“The details of Aria Hannibal… and you… the dream curse… everything that had happened…”

His words dismantled whatever was left of Ginny’s already fragile foundations as Ron and Hermione stared at each other wordlessly.

“How? Professor?” demanded Hermione. She could not think of anything smart to say as her head was uncharacteristically boiling with all kinds of entangling possibilities. For once, she was unsure of her position, and whether she should be happy or upset about this revelation.

“Miss Granger, it doesn’t matter how he got his memories back. What’s important is… I believe he is…”

Dumbledore removed his spectacles and rubbed his weary eyes, “I know Harry more than he knows himself. I had asked him to wait for me this morning… so I can meet all of you together and explain everything... because I know it would be very difficult for him to accept what happened to him last year…

“I put a memory charm on him last year for this precise reason…

“He is punishing himself for everything that has happened... once again… blaming himself for everything. He must have decided that… running away is his only option.”

He breathed deeply and gazed at a teary Ginny, “I must convince you to understand why he did what he did, Miss Weasley.”

He placed both his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to focus exclusively on him, “Do you recall my conversation with Harry two years ago in this exact location, when all three of you were hiding underneath the invisibility cloak… secretly listening in… hearing him blame himself for all the bad things that have happened to you?

“Once again, he feels it is better for you if he is not in your life…

“Harry holds on to the fact that truly loving someone is selflessly doing what’s best for that person… and…

“He believes his running away is… for your best.”

Ginny shook her head speechlessly as everything from last night began to register for her. She now understood why Harry appeared very sad the entire time, and the hidden meanings behind his conversations about the elusive stars and fragile candle flames began to make sense. He was signaling to her that he would be gone. Her intuition was right; when she reopened her eyes, he was no more. Just like the clouds, they would ultimately eclipse the stars, as powerful as the stars were. Except she didn’t care about the stars. She only cared about Harry. Sadly, he was gone too.

She was disillusioned when she woke up this morning to find her lying alone on the mountain top, fully dressed, on a blanket void of his warmth. All she had that was his was his jacket and scarf. Seeing her blouse was buttoned up completely, she realized they became one only in her dream. Her wish did not come true; the fantasy vanished as soon as she opened her eyes. To her despair, she would rather stay drunk, and asleep, if that was the only way to prolong the fairy tale and be with him.

“I’m glad you’re shaking your head. I presume you’re disagreeing with his views regarding what’s best for you. That’s what I want to see,” said Dumbledore softly.

Just as Ron was about to volunteer his mouth, Dumbledore interrupted him clairvoyantly, “I know you want to help find Harry, all three of you, but I must ask that you remain in the safe premises of the castle.

“I will summon the Order to search for him at once,” Dumbledore disappeared out of the common room, leaving the three of them standing stoically, with only their thoughts to deal with.

“Men! Always running away… taking the easy route!” Hermione growled at Ron cheaply, recalling how he deserted her yesterday when she told him she was joining her family for Christmas. Ron simply shrugged his shoulders, unknowingly swallowing the blame for the behavior of half of the human population.

Just as Hermione was about to place her hand on Ginny’s shoulder, she dashed upstairs, hoping she could spare them the fresh batch of tears parked at the wings.

Ginny’s empty dormitory would welcome her with walls and ceilings of stars and moons flashing at her happily, as if they were mocking her. Apparently, her roommates were already gone and did not bother to switch off the star ceiling lighting kit she had left on from last night. The band-aid pale blue box was untouched, sleeping on her disheveled bed, still housing the locket and the bottle of bubbles he bought her.

“Why are you glowing as if nothing happened? There’s no one to shine for anymore,” she whimpered to the dancing stars and moon.

Seeing his jacket on her bed, her tears began to erupt. She realized she now possessed two of his jackets. The one on her bed was from the old Harry; he had given it to her at the picnic just before he lost his memory. The one she was wearing now was from the new Harry, and just like the last time, he would abandon her soon after giving it to her. To her tally, he had now abandoned her twice.

“Is this what you always leave behind for me?” she cried to the jacket on her bed.

She didn’t understand why she was crying, because she should be the expert at the feelings of being letdown by now, she wept to herself. After all, she was accustomed to gazing wishfully at her doorknob, hoping and praying Harry would open it, only to have her unanswered hopes spinning endlessly in the queue from day to night.

It was also a habit of hers to automatically wipe her tears when she would hear footsteps behind her door. She would assume they were Harry’s no matter how many times the sounds continued to either pass her by or that they belonged to someone else. Coincidentally, she was wiping her eyes now in response to a string of footsteps.

“Ginny, it’s Hermione…” she tapped at her door.

Disappointed, it was not the voice she had longed to hear. Once again, the footsteps behind her door belonged to someone else.

“Go away. Please, just leave me alone!”

Suddenly, the stars on her ceiling switched to a green color, reminiscent of Harry’s eyes, blinking at her.

“Did I already know your intentions to leave from the very beginning?” she whispered to the images painfully.

“Or… was it my fault to choose to ignore… the candle flame that had fizzled out… and the star that was eclipsed by the clouds, and still insist on trying to defy reality… so I can carry on the night as if it will never end… even though I knew I was fighting a losing battle… and that everything will be over when the night is gone…

“If you had made up your mind to leave me, but you were too afraid to tell me, I will understand and I won’t keep you. All I ask is… for you to stop with your subtle hints, thinking the truth will cause me pain, when… your allusions just hurt me even more…”

She ripped at the pockets angrily and discovered a piece of soggy parchment squished in one of them. Pulling it out to her horror, she recognized it immediately as she unfolded it. It was the paper airplane with which she wrote her painful story last year.

“Where did he get this?” Ginny halted her tears and choked as the words of the poem singed her eyes. It was the first time she read her own work since writing it by the lakeside last year, and all the pain she had endured at the time was now refreshed in her head.

After an excruciating run through of the poem, she paused at the last passage, because she vividly remembered she did not write it, since her quill was snapped in half at that point, when she pressed it too hard.

”I will always be by your side.”

Recognizing the handwriting, she zoomed to her drawer and retrieved a small package, the birthday gift Harry gave her the previous year. That year, he gave her a corny note, stating that he was her gift, and that he was hers forever. Comparing the two messages on the parchments, she could clearly see that the handwriting was identical. Shaking all over her body, she couldn’t believe Harry would end up with her poem, and that he helped her to complete it. But she was still as disheartened as ever, because he had broken his promises, and they were the ones that mattered to her the most.

“Harry, you promised me last birthday… that you will always belong to me… and now you write in my poem that... you’ll always be by my side…

“But where are you now, Harry?

“What is always to you, Harry? A few months? One night?

“Because for me… always… means… FOREVER…” she shrieked defiantly as she buried herself into her bed.


***

“Oliver… Oliver…” Ginny was standing at his door in the North Tower, pounding it repeatedly with her fist, forgetting it was very late in the night, refusing to accept the fact he wasn’t answering. Suddenly, there were hoarse footsteps coming from the corner.

“Ginny, what are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight!” Oliver bawled, holding his broom. It was evident he had just returned from one of his nightly elusive searches for Yuriko.

“Oliver, I came to show you this,” she displayed him the completed puzzle, her voice unusually cheerful. “I found the last piece. Just want to show it to you,” she grimaced emptily as Oliver tentatively opened the door to his quarters, mumbling something inaudible. It was not clear whether he was mumbling about the faulty doorknob or Ginny’s uninvited visit.

“That’s very nice,” he yawned sarcastically. “But you could have waited until tomorrow. The puzzle is not going to disappear tomorrow.”

Ginny froze at his comments about things disappearing tomorrow; he had unknowingly hooked up her painful nerve, but he did not notice because he had just bent down, busily patting a piece of parchment into the bottom corner of the doorframe.

“Just in case the door slams shut on us again,” he garbled and invited her in reluctantly. “I don’t want you having to sleep in my bed again.

“It may start… some unnecessary rumors… and we wouldn’t want Harry to get upset…”

Ginny trudged her way to his desk and placed the portrait on it, trying to filter through Oliver’s pleasant words about Harry, “London truly has so many amazing buildings. I mean… Angeline’s Café is the perfect example. It’s just a coffee shop but look how beautiful it is.”

“Ginny, you came all the way here… in the night… to show me the puzzle and… now you want to discuss about nice buildings?” Oliver frowned confusedly as he untied his shoes.

She ignored him, maintaining her casual voice, “I heard a lot about the many landmarks. I want to see them all. Can you take me?”

“Shouldn’t Harry…” Oliver poked his head up curiously and stopped his words. He could sense the hollowness in her path, in vast contrast to the giggly girl from last night.

“What’s wrong?” he peered at her reddened eyes. “Is it Harry?”

“It’s funny how I told Hermione I want to visit all the fascinating landmarks in London,” she inserted evasively, dodging his question. “Now I understand why. It’s because I want to see the world with my eyes. I want to find out what I’m missing out on, and…

“Maybe… perhaps… find something… or someone… better for my life.”

She traced her fingers at the bright lights illuminating the coffee shop in the portrait, “But at the end of the day, I just can’t let go of what I have. The Burrow is no landmark. It has no bright lights… It’s modest… simple… small… my mum is screaming all the time…

“But I just can’t imagine myself living without it,” she sighed.

“Ginny, what is all this about?”

“It is the same reason why you keep wearing that ring around your neck. Am I right, Oliver?” she babbled verbosely. “You want to keep girls away, like the two we ran into at the coffee shop… because you can’t imagine yourself with anyone else other than Yuriko, just like I can’t imagine myself with another boy, no matter how hard I try.”

“Ginny, what’s going on?” he slipped into her monologue seriously, quickly taking advantage of the one second pause she had used to breathe.

“By the way, I think you should wear the ring on your finger,” she lectured erratically.

“Gin�”“

“Some girls don’t look at boys’ adam’s apples. Hermione is a good example of such a girl, and as a result, they may get confused and they will still flock to you.”

“Gin�”“

“Remember what you promised me? You said you’ll take me to the coffee shop?”

“Yes, but I thought--”

“Please don’t break your promise,” she suddenly muttered pleadingly.

“Gin�”“

“Oliver, you know what this is?” she quickly returned to her babbling voice as she retrieved a medallion from her pocket and opened the lid. “According to Hermione, it’s an Amoré. The needle guides the holder to the person who resides in the holder’s heart.

“Harry is somewhere in that direction. Do you want to see where Yuriko is?”

“That is certainly… an interesting piece of magic,” he chuckled uncertainly. “Where did you get it?”

“He gave it to me for my birthday… and… I want you to have it,” she darted towards him and slammed it into his hands. “Maybe one night when you’re out there looking for her, it’ll help you.”

“I guess you have no use to it, now that you two are together. But I can’t take something he gave you for your birthday. That will be wrong. Harry won’t like--“

She suddenly lunged into him in tears, “Oliver, I’ll give you… anything! I’m willing to… give up everything! Whatever you want! Just give me back Harry…”

“Ginny! Stop! What’s going on?” he quickly steadied her and guided her to his bed.

“Harry left me last night and he ran away! He somehow thinks it’s good for me that he’s gone!

“He didn’t give me a chance to tell him how foolishly wrong he is! I don’t know what to do! I want to find him but Dumbledore will not allow it!

“Take the puzzle!” she shrieked madly. “Take the Amoré… Whatever you want…”

“GINNY! GINNY! Pull yourself together!” he shook her.

With her tears clogging her windpipe, she could no longer talk as she slouched on his bed despairingly. Looking for a solution as well as the tissue box, Oliver scrambled around his quarters and accidentally knocked his broom to the floor.

“Ginny, remember what I told you about Yuriko leaving me at the train station?” he handed her the tissue box tentatively. “I said it was equally as punishing for her, if not more, when she decided to leave me.

“You have to believe that Harry was feeling the same way as she did,” he retrieved his broom back to the upright position and suddenly found himself fixated on it. After a pause, his focus was stolen by the glimmer from the golden shine of the medallion in his hand. He then gazed at Ginny, who was still sobbing on his bed. In fact, during the time that he was tending to his broom, she managed to locate his favorite pillow, and she was smothering her face in it.

“Ginny, listen. It was Hermione who told you what this locket does, right?” Oliver sputtered as he carefully peeled the pillow away from her. Ginny nodded weakly.

“Good. She’s a reliable source. Now… do you want to find Harry?” he asked eagerly.

Ginny nodded again.

“In that case, that’s what we’ll do!” he immediately handed her back the locket.

“But how? Dumbledore--”

“Ginny, you forgot already? I’m a teacher’s assistant at Hogwarts. I can come and go as I please like the other teachers,” he schemed recklessly. “I see nothing wrong for me to take a student with me outside the castle… because… erm… I need help… hmm… transporting some very heavy school supplies.

“I have no choice but to take the best flyer from Hogwarts with me. You and Harry did win the flying competition after all. Since Harry is… out of commission at this moment… it makes sense that I take you to help me instead.”

Ginny’s neck stiffened and her back quickly straightened.

“Ginny, if you can come up with a better lie later, make sure to tell me! Because it’s not easy lying to Dumbledore,” he yanked her up.

“Okay… meet me at the castle gates with your broom in… ten minutes!” he ushered her out. “I’ll wait for you there! And don’t forget that magic locket!”

“Oliver, wait!” she grabbed his doorframe in time to stop her uncontrolled forward momentum. “I don’t want you to risk… losing your position here for me. What if Dumbledore�”“

“Ginny, it’s no big deal! Don’t put too much into this! I did promise I’ll take you to the coffee shop. So think of it this way. On our way to finding Harry, I’ll take you there too.”

Before she knew it, she found herself sprinting back to her quarters to gather her broom, her wand, and a jacket. Everything was happening so quickly she did not have time to process it, and whether she should be doing this. But as promised, Oliver was keenly waiting for her at the gates.

“Hmm… a rather large jacket?” he smirked.

Ginny quickly stared at herself and noticed she was wearing one of Harry’s jackets. Amid the craziness, she had forgotten to check what she had retrieved out of her closet.

Oliver gazed at her deeply, “To which direction is that thing pointing now?”

She snapped open the cover and the needle was aiming poignantly to her left.

“Then left is where we’re heading then,” he mounted his broom before she held his arm appreciatively.

“Oliver… you… don’t have… to come with me.”

“Ginny, consider this as me making up to you for abandoning you at the competition,” he patted her hand reassuringly and floated to the skies.

Ginny smiled deeply and quickly hopped on her broom, following his trail.

“Thank you, Oliver.”

Ginny had expected that it would be very difficult to bypass the castle’s heightened defenses and leave the premises. Surprisingly, they encountered no obstacles in their paths. Flying side by side for what seemed like hours, no words were exchanged between them. Perhaps they were aware of each other’s wishes to remain silent, after having gone through three months of intense flying practices together. Throughout the journey, Oliver did nothing but followed Ginny as she held the medallion, diligently tracking the needle when suddenly, it snapped backwards.

“Oliver, he’s in this neighborhood!” she stopped alongside Oliver, who was glancing at the buildings underneath them, the concrete towers brightened by the morning sunrise. Without realizing it, they had traveled throughout the night.

“Perfect timing for us to sneak down to the ground before the muggles wake up!” he groaned, rubbing his growling stomach.

“Look, Ginny!” he pointed darkly. “St. Mungo’s Hospital is just below us! Do you think…”

A cold shiver spiked down Ginny’s spine, wondering terrifyingly if Harry indeed was in the last place she wanted to find him in.

Chapter 31 Yesterday's You

After an hour of needless investigation, by having Ginny stand in a variety of angles on the snowy sidewalk with the amulet, it was evident Oliver’s theory was correct. Snow was now starting to whiten the neighborhood air that was preparing itself for the morning rush hour, but the needle would not let itself be distracted by the commotion; it simply would not budge itself away from the St. Mungo’s Hospital building. As much as she refused to accept, there was no doubt Harry was in the last place she wanted to find him in.

“Harry’s got to be here if Hermione’s right about that locket! Let’s just go in and find out ourselves!” Oliver dragged her reluctant arm as they disappeared through the glass and the mannequins.

Upon entering the reception hall, they spotted an unusual amount of people surrounding them and pacing diligently along the corridors, but they do not appear to be healers, because they each sported a very stern look. Ginny gazed at her medallion once again, and the needle was now floating indecisively in a feathery manner instead of the usual solid cut in one direction. Before she was able to contemplate why, she could hear Oliver’s voice sounding next to her, but his tone was very ailing for some reason.

“Madam, I don’t feel very well,” he grimaced exaggeratedly to the receptionist, clutching his stomach submissively.

“What is your name, Sir?” she asked strictly, eyeing him and Ginny suspiciously.

“Oliver Wood,” he suddenly leaned his weight onto Ginny, seemingly needing her to keep him upright. Clearly not prepared to have someone twice her size smothering her, her legs morphed into jelly as she instinctively wrapped her arm around his waist.

“She’s my girlfriend. She’s with me,” he added to further her shock.

Ginny immediately zipped her eyes at him, and he winked furtively at her. The blushing on her face was automatic and untimely as always.

“What’s your name, Miss?” the receptionist studied the oversized boy’s jacket that she was wearing.

Still in jolt by his unanticipated behavior, Ginny took a loud swallow when she found her voice cords entangled in a knot.

“Ginny Weasley,” she heard herself squeak in an alarmingly high-pitched voice.

“Fine. Attach these nametags on yourself. They must be in full display at all times. Beware that we’re under high security alert at the moment,” said the receptionist monotonously.

“Mr. Wood, fill out these forms. You don’t appear to be needing any emergency attention,” the receptionist peered at him and droned, “so I want you to wait in the lounge over there with your friend. A healer will see you as soon as possible.”

Hiding his grin, he nodded obediently and held Ginny’s scandalized hand as they marched to the lounge.

“Oliver, what was all that rubbish?” she appealed to his sniggers appallingly, yanking her hand away as soon as they sat down.

He halted his simpers when he noticed Ginny was about to rip his windpipe out with her glaring eyes.

“What? It’s the only way to find a valid reason to come in and give you the time to search for Harry. I thought it was rather smart for my part!” he fumed indignantly.

“We could have simply asked to visit a patient named Harry Potter!” she shot back crossly.

“And what if he’s not a patient? She’ll send us away immediately!”

Ginny said nothing. She could not rationalize other possibilities as to why Harry was here other than the fact that he was badly hurt. History was definitely not on Harry’s side, as her mind was effortlessly recounting the numerous times he was hurt.

Seeing Ginny’s dejected face, Oliver sighed brusquely, “Don’t assume the worst. Maybe he’s here just to visit... the water closet.

“Anyway, I must tell you to be careful in here, so you won’t blow our cover. Dumbledore told me the hospital is temporary shelter for children of wizards and witches because of a string of Deatheater kidnappings, so they’re putting tight security and surveillance all day and night.”

He smirked somewhat smugly, “I’m surprised the receptionist didn’t press for more verification… like asking for identification checks. Maybe she can see how sweet and innocent we both looked…”

Ginny rolled her eyes in disbelief at the idea of Oliver possibly flirting with the receptionist twice his age, but nevertheless, she was grateful to his silly efforts, because they were now successfully inside the hospital premises. She now understood why there were so many wizards and witches pacing the reception hall. In the process of trying to tune out Oliver’s continuous boasting, she could pick out faint sounds of children’s laughter overriding his obnoxious voice. They were coming from the staircase. For some reason, it brought a smile to her face.

“Ginny…”

“What?”

“Don’t just sit here! Take the locket and find Harry now!” he clapped and nudged her up. “Quickly! Before they decide to cut me open or something!”

Locating Harry was something she was determined to do all along. It was the reason why she left the safe premises of the castle and traveled all through the night, putting Oliver and herself at risk, but now, she found her feet stubbornly frozen, as if they belonged to someone else. It turned out that her legs turning to jelly earlier was not because of Oliver leaning on her. Could it be that half of her body was telling her she was not ready to face the truth?

Noticing her tentativeness, Oliver stood up and assembled her trembling shoulders back into their sockets.

“I know you’ll find Harry today,” he muttered wishfully.

“But in case you don’t,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we’ll just continue tomorrow… It’s okay… as long as it takes. You can count on me.”

His words were what her legs needed to hear to get them motoring. Oliver’s willingness to stand by her would make the difference, letting her know she was not alone, and that she was not doing something foolish and pointless, to chase after a boy who had left her, like chasing a kite in the skies that had been set free by a broken string.

Attracted to the mellow sounds of laughter, she took a deep breath and commanded her unstable legs to go, unthinkingly letting them brighten a curvy path ahead of her as she marched upstairs. Oliver could do nothing more to help her now, except to anxiously watch her disappear, hoping she would succeed, so he could use her success to prove to himself that the impossible was possible.

Ginny’s steps were gradually lightened, as the chimes of happiness grew louder and louder, and the second floor would welcome her inside. It was certainly in stark contrast to the tension from the first floor. Every inch of brick was decorated with Christmas ornaments, reminding her the holidays were fast approaching. Not letting the beauty distract her, she referred to the locket, and the needle was pointing inconclusively ahead of her, perhaps dictating her to continue her journey.

She continued to stroll calmly through the hallway, and the children’s cheers grew warmer as they were stringing themselves together to form Christmas songs. A wide doorway stood in front of her now, and she discovered a group of young children inside a big hall, gathered around a person dressed completely in a red Santa Claus costume, complete with a heavy white beard and big red hat, kneeling next to a stunning Christmas tree, handing gifts to the eager children. He even had what appeared to be spectacles. A couple of witches were smiling deeply by the fireplace in the background. They appeared to be taking a break from their security routine. She was momentarily mesmerized by the childish but enchanting scene. It did not matter, because according to the locket, she had reached her destination.

“I know it’s not Christmas yet but open the presents anyway, because Santa says so,” he commanded to a cheer as he brushed his beard gently. For some odd reason, Ginny got a distinct impression she had heard this young poignant voice before. Sparkling her interest, she took a small step inside, but everyone in the room was too excited to notice her quiet presence. It did not make a difference, because she was not paying attention to them either; her focus was absolutely stolen by the man in the Santa Claus costume, who somehow intrigued her.

Ginny giggled when she saw a little girl with long flowing red hair stunning him when she unexpectedly tumbled into his knee.

“Santa, please take me to the stars,” said the little girl, pointing and gazing at the star atop the Christmas tree with her brown eyes.

She was tugging mischievously at his fake white beard, but he was too perplexed to fight back. It appeared he had stopped blinking, because he had cascaded into a profoundly deep trance. Apparently, he was spellbound by the little girl’s familiar red hair and brown eyes, as he found himself sitting next to her under the Christmas tree, just like the last time he was in the common room with her, stacking presents like little kids, the only noise was the whistling of fire from the fireplace...

“Ginny, it is past midnight so it is Christmas now. So why don’t you open my present?” asked Harry as he retrieved a light blue box from the pile of presents under the tree and handed it to her.

“Come on, open it,” Harry smiled, gazing at her brown eyes.

She opened the box. It was a dream catcher.

“Hang this in your room. I want you to have the best dreams in the world. Don’t be like me, always having nightmares all the time,” whispered Harry...

His own laughter would interrupt his lonely walk on memory lane. He was chuckling because the girl was pressing on his abdomen to get his attention.

“Stop. Don’t press there. You don’t know Santa is ticklish? Especially there… and there?” he blinked his emotions away and inflated his cheeks. The entire room was buzzing, including the witches in the background.

Even though the entire room was laughing heartily, Ginny could still weave out the boyish laugh as if his voice possessed a tune specifically for her ears. Upon hearing the memorable and exclusive passage being uttered again, her breathing became shallow and her knees began to weaken, but she was determined to continue.

Ginny shakily observed him take the little girl into his arm and got up from the ground, stepping closer to the Christmas tree, seemingly answering her request to retrieve the bright green star atop the tree. As he hoisted her over his head, the girl playfully tugged the pompon of his Santa’s hat for support. It was a sight that would sear Ginny’s eyes, when she caught a glimpse of a familiar scar on his forehead just before he was able to steady himself. Overcame with emotion, she immediately darted out of the doorway and hid behind the wall. Pulling out her Amoré, the needle would confirm her suspicions. She had found him. To her relief, he was all right.

“Okay, boys and girls. It’s time for Santa to head out now, and visit the other children in the hospital,” one of the witches announced pleasantly, triggering a smattering of boos.

In panic, Ginny rushed back to the staircase and tucked herself safely from view. After hearing him say goodbye to the children, she watched her target slowly trudge his way out as the needle continued to glue itself onto him.

Ginny quietly tailed him as he retired to what appeared to be the staff room. Walking on her toes, she skimmed the floor and hid behind the doorway. After waiting for a few seconds, she summoned her courage and peered inside. The room was empty except for him slouching on a bed, with his back facing her. He appeared to be staring at something in his hands. The sight of his drooping shoulders reminded her of the time he was slouched over his trunk at the Burrow, saddened by Sirius’ broken mirror. He was still in his costume, but he had removed his hat, revealing the messy jet-black hair that could not be more clear to her at this point. After all, she had trimmed those locks so many times.

Suddenly, she could hear hooting sounds in the room, and they would haul her eyes to Hedwig, who was next to his Firebolt, flapping her wings wildly. Ginny knew the snowy owl had uncovered her presence.

“Harry…” she called out to his back as she slowly invited herself in.

He immediately straightened his head but to her surprise, he did not turn around to respond. Sitting stoically, he couldn’t deny not recognizing her tear-filled voice. He did not require more evidence; it was clear she had found him. His mission to run away had failed. He should not have paused his journey here, hoping to have a chance to spend Christmas around people before moving on.

He didn’t understand how she merely needed one day to track him down. He was deeply moved by her presence, but it pained him immensely to know her efforts would result in her having to cry for him needlessly again.

He really wanted to see her, but the voice in his head would remind him he had already said his goodbyes.

”But I can’t approach you today.
I can no longer catch your autumn gaze...”

A magic hand suddenly emerged around Ginny’s arm, “Miss, this is the staff room,” said the magic hand warningly. “It is off limits to visitors and patients. You’re not supposed to be here.”

She ignored the threat and continued her advance, “Harry…” but he remained motionless in his bed, with his back continuing to face her. Even though he was in front of her, she had never felt him so far away.

“Miss, you’re not supposed to be here,” the hand tightened on her arm, and she could no longer move now. She was too weak to fight, after having traveled throughout the night with no sleep. It was slowly pulling her back.

“HARRY!” she cried, trying fruitlessly to secure herself by reaching out to the wall, but he remained his ruthless stoic back against her, because he truly believed he didn’t deserve her; she deserved someone better, even though...

“I really want you to stay.
I really want to see your grace...”

Wanting Harry to turn around, Hedwig zoomed to his shoulder, nipping frantically at his ear, trying to turn his head with her force, but it was as if he couldn’t feel her voracious beak.

“HARRY!” she screamed again, her arm outstretched, her emotions vibrating between the syllables of his name, but he was defiant with his heartless position. He must make her hate him like he once tried before; he was convinced this was for her own good.

”I had concluded we must part ways.
Never again will your heart fall into a maze...”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the hand successfully pulled her out. Standing alone by the doorway, she watched the hand close the door before she was able to call his name again. She could now hear her own cries reflecting off the door, and rippling through the hollow hallway.

“HARRY!” she pounded on the door, but before she could wait for his elusive response, the hand secured her arm again, and she found herself being escorted mindlessly to the staircase and back to the reception hall.

It was a feeling as if she was walking in space, in complete shut down, oblivious to everything around her, even though there were faint sounds of footsteps and a shadow trailing not far away from her. She was hoping something would give her a clue as to where she should go now. As she reached the reception hall, the hand on her arm disintegrated, but her forward momentum continued aimlessly on its own. Her dreary footsteps were only cut short when someone would interrupt her bleak path.

“Ginny! Did you find Harry?” Oliver’s voice trembled her eardrums.

At the sound of Harry’s name, madness took over her. She stormed as fast as she could to the exit.

“GINNY!” Oliver chased after her as she ran into the street. It was obvious it was mid-morning already, judging by the volume of cars whizzing them by. The falling snow had strengthened into a snowstorm.

“GINNY! MIND THE CARS!” Oliver roared, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t see the cars if she wanted to anyway, because her tears and the snow were blinding her eyes. Recklessly, she dashed across the street. Thankfully, all she was hit with were loud honks and beeps cursing at her.

Completely exhausted and coupled with the feeling that she had lost everything, Ginny slipped and collapsed under her weight of emotions, effectively stopping herself in her erratic tracks.

“GINNY!” Oliver raced after her, but he had to zigzag his way carefully through the traffic; the cars were not as accommodating to him as they were with Ginny.

Oliver finally weaved himself out of danger, “Ginny, are you okay? What happened? Did you see Harry?”

She shook her head distraughtly, “He doesn’t want to see me…

“He doesn’t want… to see me… He… doesn’t… want…”

“NO! IT CAN’T BE!” the volume of Oliver’s voice sounded as if he was more devastated than Ginny was now.

“Let’s head back! Tell me where he is! I’ll pin him against the wall for you if need be!” he attempted to pull her up but she was determined to stay put, as if she wanted to remain on the cold snowy sidewalk forever.

During the struggle with Oliver, the entrance of St. Mungo’s from across the street would accidentally enter her view again, except this time, she could make out a pair of feet standing there. Oliver appeared to be distracted by the feet as well; he had since ceased his efforts to help her up because he was also gazing at the man across the street, wearing a red costume.

The snowflakes continued to tumble heavily in front of their eyes, eclipsing their vision, but the cars on the road seemed to be floating in slow motion, as if they were trying their best to accommodate her, so she could see him better. Physically, they were the only obstacles separating them now, but she knew otherwise.

As he was standing alone at the entrance of St. Mungo’s hospital, gazing painfully at his girl shattered inside his jacket on the other side of the street, he would hope the snow would be kind enough to deliver his message to her…

“I love you…’ is what I want to say.
‘I’m sorry…’ is all I can ever say...”

Crumbled on the snowy sidewalk and clutching his jacket tightly around her, she was gazing painfully at her man on the other side of the street, wondering what else she could do to let him know that…

“I love you…’ is what I want to say.
‘I love you…’ is all I can ever say...”

The two of them were like a pair of stars glowing in the mighty skies, with the snow resembling the sands of time, swirling around them and keeping them apart. As they hid their tears they would catch each other’s eyes, and see the images that were their beautiful past, flashing in front of their eyes, except they were buttered with question marks, asking themselves why…

Chapter 32 A Never Ending Story (Series Finale)

Everything was motionless, including the tight weave of cars on the road, except for the unyielding sheets of snow, soaking up every twinkling of warmth as they diced mournfully into the whitened still air. The only signs of life were four beating but severely broken hearts. One of them resided in the body of a strong handsome man, standing speechlessly over his most unlikely reflection, a beautiful fragile girl that housed the second broken heart, crumbled on the snowy sidewalk. She was watching agonizingly at her man who possessed the third broken heart, standing remorsefully across the street in his red costume.

Unbeknownst to him, a fourth broken heart was beating faintly in his thick costume pocket. A spirit living behind the pearly white porcelain, crammed in his pocket beside the Amoré she had given him before she parted, she was saddened that her efforts to help her best friend had failed, because he was still crying.

Harry had been adamant in the staff room earlier, wanting to chain himself to the bed, because he wanted Ginny to hate him, even though Hedwig was dragging him by his ear. He was convinced it was the selfless thing to do; it was for her best that he set her free. But as he glimpsed at his rueful hands, of which they had been clutching the precious dove statue, he swore he saw pools of water collecting underneath the eyes.

He believed innocently they were the result of sweat from his hands, but the pools would nevertheless remind him of the pure love he shared with Ginny. After all, it was so powerful that two spirits would arise from it, coming to his rescue when he needed them.

Knowing he no longer deserved to possess such a love, he wanted to return the statue back to Ginny before sending her away, hoping the spirits would take his place and watch over her the way they did with him, because he could no longer fulfill this role in her life.

As Harry trudged across the street with the sculpture in his costume, he kept his head down, reminding himself repeatedly that he must make her hate him, just like earlier, when he kept his back against her, and two years ago, when he slammed his door ruthlessly in the common room so she could hear his rejection loud and clear. He must keep his heart colder than the winter winds skimming his hair. Disgusted with himself, he realized he has had too much experience hurting her.

The street had apparently narrowed to reduce his distance, and the shape of a trembling Ginny grew bigger and bigger atop his shameful eyes, matching the exponential pain in his heart. He stopped his tracks when he would be stunned by what he saw, and what he had done, the agony he inflicted on her, the girl he loved the most. Covered in snow, her hair and cheeks were ghostly white, void of all the fiery red that embodied her. Her colors were entirely gone.

Oliver stepped aside laboriously, not forgetting to stab Harry with his livid eyes in the process. Standing over her now, Harry gently slid his hands under her arms, still avoiding her eyes. As soon as he managed to successfully pull her upright, she heatedly locked her arms around him, sobbing profusely into his shoulder so much she did not notice that Harry’s arms were deliberately dangling ruefully to his side.

“Harry, I love you. Please don’t leave me,” murmured Ginny. It was all she could say as she tightened her grip, taking him prisoner if she could. Her voice, in the most heartbreaking strain Harry has ever heard from her, pushed his body temperature to rise, threatening to melt his cold heart.

Oliver gazed at Ginny, seeking confirmation she was all right before leaving her alone with Harry. Without acknowledging Harry, he muttered quietly, “Ginny, I left our brooms in the hospital lounge. I’ll go back and get them.”

She nodded slightly, signaling gratefully to Oliver she was fine before he shakily crossed the street, leaving them alone in their one-sided embrace.

Harry knew he must push her away, but her rippling cries were like invisible chains. Like her arms, they were bounding their bodies stubbornly together, just like the hammock at the lakeside last year. They stood like this for what seemed like eternity, as the snow continued to bathe them of their past, until he unsealed his mouth and broke the silence delicately so he wouldn’t spill his emotions.

“Ginny…

“Have you completed… your puzzle?” he whispered powerlessly into her ear.

Ginny didn’t respond. The last thing she wanted to discuss with him now was the status of the puzzle.

Harry continued in a heartening tone, but it was one with no foundation, because the words that followed were knifing his heart savagely, “Oliver… he’s… a good guy…

“I know… he promised you something. When you… complete the puzzle… he’ll take you… to that French coffee shop you’ve always wanted...”

He closed his eyes to mask his true emotions, “Oliver will never break… his promise to you.”

Ginny’s eyes blinked tiredly and she slowly released her arms from him. She unfortunately understood what he meant by this. Once again, he was employing his allusions on her, like his conversations about stars and candle flames at the mountain top two nights ago. He was pushing her to Oliver.

“Harry… is that… truly… what you want?” she wanted to seek the truth in his eyes, but he had not reopened them.

“Ginny, I want what is best for you,” he gently turned away and muttered to the snow, hoping she couldn’t spot his knotted reflections from the assembly of snowflakes sparkling in the air.

“No,” she breathed defiantly.

Remembering what Dumbledore had said to her yesterday about Harry’s apparent selfless reasons for running away, she promptly disputed him, “Harry, I know the truth. I understand why… you ran away…

“You… have your memory back… everything with Aria Hannibal, the dream curse… the night we spent together at the church…

“You… feel guilty about everything… but… Harry…

“Harry, I forgive you,” Ginny inserted assertively as she inched closer, but Harry closed his ears with his hands, shutting out the words he didn’t deserve to hear.

Harry could not hate himself more, for the coward and selfish person that he was. In the end, all of his wrongdoings would ultimately come out of her lips instead of from his, and she would forgive him even though he still hadn’t apologized and begged for her forgiveness.

“Harry, I forgive you,” she repeated firmly, tears rolling down her cheeks, blending perfectly with the water drops from the melting snowflakes.

“You don’t understand, Ginny,” he bravely turned around to face her. His cheeks were also dazzling with water drops. It was not clear whether they were tears or the melting snowflakes.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he snapped coldly to stop his composure from fizzling away.

As he was about to tell her viciously to leave, his heart propelled itself upwards and clogged his windpipe, effectively silencing him. Perhaps it was trying its best to stop his voice cords from formulating his lying words. Helplessly, he retrieved the doves from his pocket. Even though they were not exposed to the snowflakes, Harry could see the eyes were once again swimming with pools of water.

“I thought Ron broke them at the Burrow,” remembered Ginny surprisingly, but her blip of exhilaration was crushed, when he frigidly placed them in her hand, seemingly returning them to her. All she could do was to stare at him devastatingly. She realized it was over.

In waves of anger, she raised her arm in the air with the statue in her hand, wanting to smash it into the ground before Harry grabbed her in time to stop her.

“GINNY, WHAT’RE YOU DOING?” he roared madly, enclosing both his hands on the porcelain.

“WHAT DO YOU CARE WHAT I DO WITH IT? I THOUGHT YOU DON’T CARE!

“I THOUGHT YOU WANT ME TO GO WITH OLIVER!

“IT’S OVER, ISN’T IT? YOU’RE RETURNING IT TO ME, RIGHT?

“WELL, I DON’T WANT IT BACK!”

Harry hastily tore the statue safely away from her and distanced himself from her, because he could sense the corners of his eyes were needling with tears.

“You lie, Harry! You do care,” she hissed angrily, but the snowflakes would quickly thicken between them, softening her fury by the time they reached his ears.

“Harry, you can’t just… end something like this… just by returning… things!” she shrieked to his heaving image that was getting more and more hazy. Her vision of him was blurred by the snow, or perhaps he was simply walking away. Terrified, she was losing him in front of her eyes.

“Harry,” she reached out elusively and managed to anchor her claws onto his shoulders. Without delay, she smothered her face into his eyes, “My face… this past year… you should know that… my cheeks… tears visit them every single night… tears drown me to sleep every night… but they… still could not erase… all the kisses… your kisses… like tattoos… burned into my skin…

“There were many times… I want to forget you… but I can’t… give… those kisses back to you…

“They don’t just disappear, Harry…”

Harry gazed wordlessly at her sparkling face. She was right; he could pinpoint the exact location of all the places he kissed, because he had kissed practically every part of her face.

Now that he was inches away from her, she lowered her voice substantially and her hand fished her way deep inside his costume, ripping most of the buttons in the process. Her hand rested itself on his quivering heart, electrifying his bare skin and rekindling their unique connection. Once again, he would let her have her way with him.

“Your skin, Harry… every cell… on your body can still remember my fingerprints… I can feel it…” her fingers pressed themselves into his heart, as if they were trying to soothe his pain.

“I’ll always remember all the… lines on your palms, your face…

“I can’t give these memories back to you…

“They don’t just disappear…

“Just like all the promises, the words you said to me… they can’t be taken back… Do you understand?”

She retrieved a crumbled piece of parchment from her pocket with her other hand, from his jacket she was wearing. Biting her lip, she handed it to him, “You gave this to me for my birthday last year. Remember?”

The pain in his heart was subsiding because of the endearing warmth from her hand. The feeling was so heavenly he could not pull away anymore. She had him permanently locked in front of her. Like a torch of an everlasting flame, the warmth was now telling him to take the parchment and read it for her.

“To Ginny,” he read childishly, “This is… a contract… giving you exclusive rights and ownership… to a boy bearing the name Har--“

Blood was ballooning every crater of his skin, extinguishing the cold emotionless front he had built around him, his foolishness warming up his entire body, even though his upper body was partially exposed.

Ginny smiled wanly, “Please continue.”

He proceeded hesitantly, “A contract giving you exclusive rights and ownership to a boy, bearing the name… Harry Potter… This is a…” he took a deep breath and his voice trailed embarrassingly, “a binding agreement for life and the terms…”

“Please continue, Harry,” she requested melodiously.

“The terms are irrevocable…

“But,” he suggested apologetically, “the boy who… wrote this has died… in the passageway.

“The terms ended… when he died.”

“Is that right?” whispered Ginny engagingly, calmly extracting another piece of parchment from her pocket as her hand continued to nurse his heart.

“Harry, I wrote a poem after you... apparently died in the passageway. I… was unable to finish it…

“I folded it into a paper airplane. Just like the way you did it, I sent it to the lake.

“But… somehow, it would find you, and you, the new Harry Potter, will complete it for me.”

“Hedwig… She… delivered it to me one night… I didn’t know… it was from you…”

“I always knew Hedwig was the smarter one between the two of you,” she gazed winningly into his eyes. “Harry, please read what you wrote on the bottom.”

“I will… always be by your side.”

Ginny stared at him triumphantly, her hand now successfully enclosing itself around his heart.

“Ginny�”“

“Harry, my heart is not a book from the library. You can’t just… return it when you’re done with it.”

Once again, she dug at her pockets and retrieved her Amoré. Standing in front of him, she snapped the cover open, making sure he would see the needle pointing poignantly at him.

Recognizing the shine of the locket, Harry recalled Samantha had given him one exactly like it, and how the needle was pointing at him when she was holding it in the hospital. He instinctively retrieved his from his pocket, and just like Ginny, he snapped it open, and the needle was pointing directly at Ginny.

“In case you don’t remember what the Amoré does,” said Ginny mistily. “The needle points to the person who resides in the holder’s heart.”

The tip of the needles acted like they were magnetized with each other, latching themselves together amazingly, even though they were physically apart. It was as if they were one seashell that had been broken in half, only to find themselves back together again after enduring many years and miles and miles of tidal waves.

Seeing the needles perfectly lined up in a straight line was what was needed to bring all the tears out of Harry’s eyes. The bolts and screws slipped out of his knees as Ginny’s hand at last cured his heart and guided him back from his lost path. Finally finding his way back where he always belonged, he collapsed to his knees in front of her. Thankfully, the thick snow would soften the impact, because without it, he would surely have popped his kneecaps.

“Harry,” muttered Ginny. “You don’t have to walk alone. Take my hand. Let me walk with you. Let me kiss your tears away.”

Harry nestled his remorseful face into her thighs. She didn’t need to hear him say he was sorry, because she had already forgiven him. Smiling tearfully, she patted his head gently as Oliver stood by the hospital entrance with their brooms, a matching smile radiating enviously on his face. Knowing that his mission was complete, it was now time for him to tackle his own never-ending story.

“Harry,” Ginny giggled through her tears, “What do you think of libraries… that offer their patrons… an eternal due date for… their books?

“What if I tell you…

“You can… keep my book forever now.”

***

At the news of Ginny and Oliver finding Harry and the two of them getting back together, Dumbledore was so thrilled he absentmindedly relieved the three of them of all responsibilities at Hogwarts until after the holidays. Naturally, Harry and Ginny would spend their precious days at the Burrow, much to Mrs. Weasley’s excitement. Ron was immensely jealous of Harry that he was exempt from end of term exams, but he was delighted when Hermione invited him to stay with her parents for Christmas. Hermione purposely wanted to have as little people at the Burrow as possible. With Fred and George living in Diagon Alley now, the Burrow would be as cozy as it could be for Harry and Ginny, as long as Mrs. Weasley would not interfere. As a friend, she understood they must catch up all the time that was lost.

“What’s that sound?” asked Harry lightheartedly as he opened his trunk in Ron’s room at the Burrow, only to surprise himself that it was his own whistles bouncing off the walls.

Harry was in the process of getting himself ready for a date with Ginny later this evening. Oliver had informed him of all the details about Angeline’s Café, as well as all the nighttime must see spots in the city, and he planned to bring her there as a surprise. As he retrieved his clothes, his eyes trembled serenely when he came across the tuxedo Samantha made for him for the competition.

”I believe Samantha would want you to have it…” said Dumbledore to Harry before he left for the Burrow with Ginny.

Harry didn’t tell Ron, Hermione, and Ginny the truth about Sam’s origins. He decided this was what she would have wanted, just like Dumbledore’s promise to her, and indeed, he would announce to the entire school she was expelled for sneaking to Hogsmeade.

Gazing movingly at the vivid red bow tie, his mind would roll back to the three months they were together, and how his mentee had silently sacrificed her life to help him find his happiness. He slowly strolled to the shelf with the bow tie. Sitting atop the shelf was the dove statue.

“Samantha,” a bittersweet but appreciative smile glowed across his face as he tenderly caressed the sculpture with his thumb. “I want you to know… today I finally found my path, and learned to walk my journey… the right way… with Ginny… by my side…

“When I look at the footprints I left behind, they now bear the same deep poignant determination as yours did… everything you taught me to be a better person…

“If I do see you again someday, Samantha… I hope…

“Let me… hold your hand and let me sincerely… say…

“Thank you…”

He closed his quivering eyes and swallowed the tiny lump in his throat before playfully covering the statue with a pillowcase.

“But right now, I have to change. So… no more peeking!”

Harry changed his clothes speedily, not wanting Ginny to have to wait for him. As he ventured to her room, he was flattening his hair with one hand, and knocking her door with the other.

“Harry, is that you? Didn’t I say you don’t have to knock? Just come in!” her voice echoed impatiently.

When he opened the door to discover Ginny was in a precarious state of undress, he immediately blushed and turned his head away.

“Sorry,” he quickly slammed the door shut before realizing he had apologized to the door.

“Harry!” she dragged his reluctant feet inside before he was able to react, but he broke free of her grip and awkwardly raced to her closet, seizing the first sleeping gown he could reach and wrapped her in it, all in the while commanding his sizzling eyes to not prowl where they were not supposed to.

“Harry,” she sighed teasingly, trying to push the suffocating gown away. “You don’t like what you see?”

“No. Not at all,” he garbled incoherently. “It’s just… what if… your mum… she… You know she barges in without knocking… what if she sees me in here and you’re… you…”

“You always use her as the excuse, Harry,” she cut in crossly. In her mind, she couldn’t believe she would waste no time starting their first argument.

“It’s always the same. Every time I give you the naughty signal, you always use her as the excuse to stop. I’m tired of it!” she paced to the window angrily.

“Naughty signal?” he followed her guiltily and held her waist, pretending he didn’t understand what she meant by this.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re really attracted to me,” she jabbed him with her elbow.

“Gin, don’t say that!” he turned her around and she purposely whipped his face with her hair.

“I love you, Ginny. It’s just…”

He gazed deeply into her eyes as he inched closer, mumbling wetly into her ear, “There’s… just so much more to you than you think. In my mind, you are so much more…

“Let me… demonstrate to you… how I mould you… in my dreams…”

Harry would now let his hands do the teaching as they waltzed towards her head. Burrowing through her hair, he gently massaged her scalp, gradually swimming down to her screaming neck. His lips would locate her steamy eyes; her eyelashes were reaching for him as he planted a kiss there before surfing his way to her earlobe. He was now nibbling her, toying her with his devilish tongue, the short circuiting sensations sending her knees puffing breathtakingly as she had to lean on him for support.

“Sometimes… less is more…” she could hear someone mumble vaguely in her head.

“Hmm?” she panted dizzyingly, her breathing seemingly floating dreamily into another time zone, as her unconscious hand was going naughty again, hungrily latching itself onto his...

”Knock. Knock…”

Harry immediately bounced away from her. Still submerged in her ecstasy, her knees were not ready for the abrupt lost in body support and she almost tumbled to the floor.

After regaining her vision, Ginny tightened her gown and glanced frustratingly at a nervous looking Harry before reaching for the doorknob, “It can’t be Mum! She never knocks!”

It was Oliver who untimely interrupted their private lesson of exploration. He was accompanied by his broom and suitcase. From his expressions and the suitcase, she could foretell what would soon follow.

“Ginny, sorry to interrupt,” said Oliver, peering furtively into her room, seemingly aware of the activities that were taking place inside. “But… I just want to say goodbye to you…”

“Where are you going?” she intercepted worriedly.

“I’ve decided I’m going to find Yuriko.”

Ginny closed her door behind her, remembering her promise to Oliver to not let anyone know about his troubles.

“But you don’t want to wait until tomorrow morning?” she suggested, hoping she could do something special for him before he left.

“I’ve got to do it now. I’m tired of hiding. I’ve said tomorrow too many times. Besides, I want to do it while Mrs. Weasley is not here. Saying goodbye is hard. I can imagine your mum with her questions…”

“But… you’re coming back after the holidays. Right?” she asked involuntarily, but her momentary smile was undone when he shook his head.

“I gave Dumbledore my resignation already. As you know, Hogwarts was my escape. I had made my decision to leave the night you showed me the completed puzzle.

“But I delayed my plan after finding out… about Harry running away, so… I stayed… wanting to help you before I go.

“That’s why I told you it was no big deal sneaking out of the school.”

With her eyes flooding in gratitude, she mumbled, “Oliver…”

“Ginny, please don’t cry,” he hugged her and kissed her forehead.

“It’s just… I’ve only gotten to know you this past year, but I feel like… I’m saying goodbye to an old friend. That’s all,” she replied faintly.

“Oliver, how can I thank you… for everything you did for me and Harry? I wish there was something I can do to help you to find Yuriko.”

“Don’t mention it. What happened at St. Mungo’s… it was what I needed to see… It proved to me my decision to find her is the right one. I should be thanking you instead.”

“Oliver, I’ll miss you,” said Ginny caringly.

“Oh, about the Angeliné Café promise, I haven’t broken it. It’s just… I’ve instructed another person to take my place… to go with you,” said Oliver cheerfully as he picked up his suitcase. “I gave him all the instructions. I’m sure you’ll be much happier going with him than me.”

“Oliver, WAIT HERE!” she darted inside her room. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry resting quietly on her bed. Ignoring him, she quickly retrieved the Amoré from the drawer and rushed back out.

“I want you to have this,” she handed Oliver the locket. “It’ll help you find Yuriko.”

“But�”“

“I don’t need it anymore, thanks to you.”

Oliver gazed sadly at the medallion, his finger locating the button to open the cover that would reveal his true path, but all he could do was to tease the button tentatively.

“Oliver…” Ginny could sense his familiar apprehension; it was the same kind of doubt she had when she was in the hospital, causing her feet to morph into jelly. Just like what he did to help her, she would reach for his shoulders and assembled them back into their sockets.

“Ginny,” he patted her hand, “you’ve seen me cry… seen me at my most vulnerable state… know about my foolish stories… I feel like I can say anything to you.

“I have to tell you…” he paused because his voice suddenly went off key, “I’m truly… very afraid… but I… I really miss her.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled sympathetically. “Just… open the cover and… let the needle guide you in your journey.”

He took a few minutes to summon his courage to open the cover. Once he did, it was a shocking sight; the needle was pointing straight at Ginny.

A disturbed look crept over both their faces as Ginny immediately maneuvered herself to the side. Thankfully, the needle did not follow her.

“Whew! I was about to think you’re in love with me,” she laughed to her relief and glanced at his hand. “By the way, I see you took my advice.”

“Uh?”

“The ring, Oliver. I see you’re wearing it on your finger.”

Oliver nodded meekly in agreement.

“Say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for me please,” Oliver gathered his belongings and headed downstairs as Ginny gazed at his fading trail, hoping he would be just as lucky as her.

“Remember to cross the street only when the light is green!” he suddenly shouted from downstairs.

“Promise you’ll keep in touch with me!” she answered back, her smiling lips colliding with her tears. “Owl me… as soon as you find her!”

After hearing the front door close, she returned to her room to find Harry asleep peacefully in her bed. Wiping her tears away, she quietly walked next to him, admiring his sleeping face. He was exactly where she always wanted him to be.

“He must be tired. We’ll go next time,” she muttered understandingly to his heaving chest as she removed his glasses.

She quietly climbed into the bed and snuggled herself beside him, rolling carefully to the side, so her eyes would see only him, the boy next door, her guardian angel.

“I wonder what he’s dreaming about,” she noticed a deep grin filling up his face as he also turned to his side.

“Maybe for once, he will have a pleasant dream...”

“Maybe for once, we will have a pleasant dream...”

Ginny closed her eyes.

”Pleasant dreams…”

“……”

“Ginny, I can’t hear them,” Harry opened his eyes and leaped up from his sleeping position. “Something must be wrong!”

“Who?”

“The children! Where�”“

Suddenly, a cloud of sand tumbled all over Harry’s head. With his glasses covered with sand, he couldn’t see anything, but he could recognize the hyena laugh rocketing away.

“Catch me if you can, DAD!”

Ginny suppressed her giggles and quickly helped him brush off the sand that was all over his hair.

Harry couldn’t command his bratty daughter to come back, because his mouth was also filled with sand.

“She only does this to me!” he complained between clenched teeth and glared at Ginny jealously, as she continued to sweep the sand off him, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Well, I’m her mother,” giggled Ginny.

“What about me? I’m her father!” screamed Harry indignantly.

“It’s like I get no respect from her!” he fumed, watching his daughter now racing towards her brother with the bucket, and slamming it onto his head. He had been sitting innocently by the edge of the beach waters, gathering up the seashells.

“Sometimes, I wonder,” said Ginny uneasily. “Samantha sort of reminds me of… you know… your mentee… It must be in the name or something…”

“Sort of?” his eyes bulged at her in disbelief. “I think she’s the exact imprint of that little...”

“Ryan is different. Calm and polite…” Ginny watched him proudly as he fend off his sister in an ever so gentlemanly manner, in order to protect his seashells, “I bet he’ll have his hands full with the girls… just like you were, Harry.”

Harry gave her a look of helpless disapproval, and decided to let it pass.

“Even though they are twins,” he sighed thankfully, “they can’t be more different.”

“Hermione says it runs in the family, because I have a pair of twin brothers. So now she’s afraid of having kids, after seeing me stuck in labor for two days like that.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “She said two babies simply will never fit through her -- tiny little waist --.”

She gazed at Harry, who was smiling serenely and appreciatively at the children, watching Samantha holding a small pink bottle, blowing bubbles of soap at her brother religiously.

“I miss your scar,” Ginny stroked his bangs so she could see his forehead.

Clearly surprised, he immediately directed his eyes back to Ginny, who was grinning and giggling like the little girl he always remembered.

“Why? You want Voldemort to come back?” asked Harry appallingly.

“No. Of course not. It’s just… your scar… it was such a big part of you. It almost defined you.”

“Well, Ginny. Things change in life. Definitions and meanings change. Thankfully, this one is for the better, and you know why?”

Blocking out the hollers from Samantha and Ryan, Harry took Ginny into his arms and held her as tight as he could, “It’s because now… it’s you who will forever occupy my life… and my heart…”

The End.

---

A/N: Hi readers. I hope you like the ending to the series. As foreshadowed in the ending of ‘When I See Only You,’ the ending would find Harry by Ginny’s side.

The series started with Harry and Ginny sharing a nightmare, so I thought it would be fitting that I end it with them sharing a dream.

Thanks to all the readers who read and reviewed the story, even though it is sad and depressing. But at least no one dies in my stories!

Special thanks to Danielle of mugglenet.com, for taking the time to moderate almost all the chapters of the story. What can I say… she is the best!

I never knew I had it in me to put together a string of three stories in ten months. Anyway, don't forget to leave your mark by dropping me a final review! Don't be anonymous. Take off your invisibility cloak and reveal yourself to me!

Please check out Oliver and Yuriko's emotional spinoff story, "Moongate Beckons When The Canvas Sleeps." Follow the path of a man on the road to recovery, only to find himself entangled by a sad children's fairy tale...