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…”
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...