He awoke to total darkness and reached out to pick up his glasses from the bedside table. Harry could tell by the dull snores coming from the bed just next to his own, that Ron was still fast asleep. He also knew that it would be impossible to slip back into his own, disturbed slumber now that he was awake.

Harry sat up and quietly pushed the tangled mess of covers off himself. As silently as he could, he crept to the door of Ron’s room and slipped through it. He was unsure of what he was doing or where he was going, but his instinct led him down the stairs and out of the back door, into the garden.

It was a hot summer’s night and the air hung like a heavy blanket over the dry, cracked ground. A slight breeze disturbed the leaves of the nearby trees; it came as a great relief to Harry after the stuffy atmosphere of Ron’s bedroom. Harry flopped down onto the bench and rested his head on the cool wood.

This particular spot in the garden always brought Harry peace and solitude; the things he found himself needing in growing amounts recently. Since Dumbledore’s death, the Wizarding world had been in disarray. It seemed as though no one had known the power the Headmaster held over the magical community while he was alive, and now that he was no longer with them, who would protect and guide them as he did? More to the point, who would protect and guide Harry now that his beloved Headmaster was gone?

A great sadness had been expected when the news of Dumbledore’s death was announced, but no one could ever have predicted what was happening at present. Wizards all over Britain, and indeed the world, were losing hope. Not only were they now losing hope, but they were losing belief in their own strength against the Dark Lord. Belief in magic runs far deeper than magical theory itself, and as a terrible consequence, witches and wizards had begun to lose their magical powers.

It had spread like a plague; the magic in the Wizarding community was ebbing away like a dying tide. It had not happened since Voldemort’s last reign, nearly eighteen long years ago, and now it had firmly taken hold.

Harry was stirred from his reveries by the sound of soft footsteps on the grass. He looked up to see Ginny walking towards him. Harry perceived a fearful look on her pale, white face clearly visible in the yellow moonlight. The breeze stirred her loose ginger hair and the hem of her nightdress fluttered delicately as she walked. She appeared ghostlike, as if Harry was observing her in one of his dreams. When she spoke, however, she was very much real,

“I knew you’d be out here.�

“What do you mean?� Harry asked softly.

“Just like every other night,� she replied.

“How do you— � But she cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.

“You’ve sat here every night for the past week, Harry. I’ve seen you out of my bedroom window. Each night at about three you come and sit here, then, when the sun begins to rise, you creep back upstairs and pretend you’re fine when Ron wakes up. And every morning when Mum asks why you look so tired, you claim that you’re sleeping soundly and tell her not to worry. Harry, you can’t fool me, I know you better than you think.� Her voice was heavy with concern.

“Sorry, did I wake you as I came downstairs?� he asked. Harry was a little surprised by Ginny’s in depth analysis of his nocturnal habits and was keen to know how she had discovered him.

“No, well, at first you did. But now my body seems to wake up automatically, because I know that if I wake up, I’ll see you.� Her voice gradually trailed off as she spoke, ending in a small whisper. She was afraid to admit that some nights she sat at her window and waited for him, willing him to wake up and go to that bench, just so she could see him for a little longer.

Harry looked away. He wasn’t sure of how he should react to Ginny’s confession. She made up his mind for him, however, as she lowered herself slowly onto the bench next to him. There was silence for a few moments, the atmosphere between them as thick as the hot air that surrounded them. Neither wanted to break the silence, afraid of what they might say.

“Take me with you, Harry,� Ginny said suddenly. “Please, I can’t stay here, knowing that you’re in danger out there.�

“Ginny, we’ve been through this a hundred times,� Harry replied, growing impatient at the injustice of her requests. “You’re not coming. I’m sorry.� His voice was short and firm. Ginny flared up at once, truly living up to her redheaded temper. What had he expected?

“You can’t just leave me, Harry. I may be a girl but I can fight, too!� she cried out indignantly.

“Do you think that I don’t know that, Ginny?� Harry questioned. His voice was soft, not an angry exclamation like that of Ginny’s. Harry began to smile warmly at her.

“Why are you laughing at me?� Ready to fight for her corner, she had not expected to see Harry smiling at her. It took her by surprise and she found herself grinning, too.

“Ginny, I’m smiling at you. At how wonderful you are… and how stubborn,� he added. “Come on, we’ve got to get back to bed or we’ll both look pale in the morning.� He stood up and expected Ginny to follow suit. She remained sitting, however.

“You go, I’m going to sit here for a few more minutes.� Harry nodded silently and turned to leave. As he did, he could have sworn he saw the small glimmer of a tear trickle down her face as she looked up at the stars.

***

The morning before Harry, Ron and Hermione’s departure came all too quickly and the day had a thick atmosphere, as if a rain cloud hung over The Burrow. After breakfast, the Weasley children, Harry and Hermione retreated to the garden to play Quidditch and lounge around on the grass. It was just like old times, when Harry would stay over during the summer holidays. It was almost painful for him to recall those memories now; they were so distant and happy.

Much of the afternoon was spent this way, until the arrival of Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Hagrid. The whole house filled with activity. The men were supervising the organisation of the outdoor furniture, Mrs Weasley and Fleur were busy in the kitchen, Ginny and Hermione were sorting the cutlery, and Harry and Ron were lurking about, trying to look helpful.

Harry strolled into the kitchen with the intent of seeing what Hermione and Ginny were doing, but was met with a sorry sight. Seated at the old kitchen table were Mrs Weasley and Fleur, the latter with her head in her hands, sobbing.

“Don’t worry, dear. It was just a slip, you’re fine,� Mrs Weasley cooed.

“I cannot be losing my magic, Molly!� Fleur said furiously. “I will not lose it. I’m not afraid of him.�

“I know you’re not, it was just a mistake. Anyone could have done it,� Molly replied, soothingly.

“She tried to levitate those plates out to the garden and they, erm, well they didn’t really stay in the air long,� Hermione whispered to Harry. “Come on, let’s go outside and leave them to it.� They hastily grabbed the knives and forks and disappeared out of the back door, keen to put some distance between them and the distraught Fleur.

“She can’t be losing her belief in her powers, too,� Harry stated. “There’s no way. She’s too determined, it must have been an accident.�

“Well, obviously she didn’t think so. Do you think that she would be that upset over a little slip-up?�

“Hmm,� Harry agreed, vaguely. He was suddenly a lot less content than he had been a few minutes earlier. If the loss of magical power was starting to affect the Order, they’d have no chance. Harry kept these thoughts to himself throughout the evening. He had resolved to enjoy himself tonight, whatever happened.

***

It was like an unspoken arrangement. Both had no doubt that the other would be there, that night. They each needed the other to be there. Ginny waited until she heard Harry descending the many flights of stairs before creeping onto the landing herself. Once again, they found themselves together on the garden bench.

“Did you hear Lupin talking earlier?�

“Yes, but don’t you take any notice of it, Harry. It’s not exactly going to happen to you, is it? Let the Ministry worry about it.� Ginny was determined not to let the conversation from dinner weigh upon Harry’s mind.

“But what if everyone stops believing they are strong enough? We can’t convince people that Voldemort wanted this, that we can’t let him have it. It’s not like Scrimgeour is going to help, either,� he added hopelessly.

“Harry, concentrate on what you have to do. If you succeed there will be no need for helping people believe again; they just will. But most importantly, keep yourself safe.� Ginny felt that it was almost her duty to keep Harry’s mind focused on the task at hand. She wasn’t physically going to be allowed to help, but nevertheless, she would not waver in her constant reiteration of these reassuring words to him.

“Didn’t you hear what Moody said about wizards trying to live without their magic? It’s a disaster.� He looked desperately at the girl sitting next to him, whose voice cut firmly through the night air.

“It is not a disaster, Harry!� she cried out in exasperation. Her temper had, once again begun to rise and all Harry could do was watch. “What is a disaster is you giving up on your own hope! You mustn’t let—�

But she was suddenly cut off. Harry simply could not stop himself. He put his hands on either side of her face, his fingers in her soft, red hair and at once their lips met. He kissed her with force, an urgency, a goodbye.

Ginny knew that in his kiss there was a sadness, and in turn, she knew that he was saying goodbye. What could she have done when all she wanted was him? She had dreamt of this kiss, yet now, the reality that he was leaving left her feeling sick to her stomach.

“I’m so sorry.� The apology came almost as soon as they broke apart.

“Harry, I don’t need you to apologise and I definitely don’t want you to. All I need is one thing.�

“What is it?� he whispered softly. A tear had stolen its way down Ginny’s cheek once again, but as she spoke she wiped it away in defiance.

“I need you to promise that you will always believe in yourself and your power.� This was not at all what Harry had expected, yet, he knew what his answer had to be.

“Okay.�

“Because you know the only way you can beat him is with faith in your own ability. Have the conviction to do that and you will be successful. I know you can do it and do you know why?�

“Why, Ginny?�

“Because, I have the utmost belief that you are strong enough for this. I believe in you, Harry.�

“I know, Ginny, I’ve always known that. And whatever happens, I will keep to my promise because I believe you.�

***

It had been a week since he had left. A painful and heart wrenching week for her. Yet, each night she awoke at that time. Those hours that she had cherished only a week ago had now been replaced with emptiness. A pale figure at the window, she would sit. Ginny knew that it was childish, but she couldn’t break the habit, it was ingrained in her, almost like a ritual of desperation; if she waited for him each night, he would eventually come back to her. It was her only solace; that bench, and the thought that one day, she would see him there again, sitting in that comfortable, contented way.