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.
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 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.
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’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 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…