Under the spell
When Harry woke the next morning, he had that odd feeling that he should be worried about something, he just couldn’t remember what.
Then it hit him.
He groaned and fumbled about, trying to find his glasses. He got dressed, then went down to the Common Room, finding only Hermione there.
“Morning,” she said cheerily.
“Hi,“ he replied, in possibly the least cheery voice imaginable.
“Oh dear, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” lied Harry.
“No you’re not,” she said. “Is it something to do with you and Ginny?”
Harry just shrugged unhelpfully and sat down next to her.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re in a mood so I can help, or am I going to have to put up with you until you work it out for yourself?” she asked.
Harry squirmed under her interrogation.
“We just had an argument,” he mumbled.
“I see,” said Hermione, as though she had expected that answer. “Well, why don’t you wait for her to come down, then you can talk it through.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be quite as easy as that,” Harry told her, thinking back to what Ginny had said last night.
Hermione thought for a moment.
“Write her a letter,” she said finally.
“A letter?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Sometimes it’s the best way to get down your thoughts if you can’t say them to someone’s face, or you’re not sure how to put it. It gives you the chance to think about what you want to say before you give it to them.”
Harry considered this idea. It did sound quite a lot simpler than trying to face Ginny’s temper.
“Maybe,” he muttered. “I’m going to go and have breakfast.”
Harry got up and left the Common Room, with no intention of going to the Great Hall. He walked out into the grounds, just as he had done last night, and kept going beyond the iron gates, not really thinking about where he was heading.
By the time he reached the village, Harry had made the decision to take up Hermione’s advice. After all, she did seem to have a much better insight into the ways a girl’s mind worked than he did. He bought a few sheets of parchment, a cheap quill and a tiny pot of ink, then headed up the hill where he found some rocks to sit on.
Dear Ginny he wrote. His mind had gone blank. All he had to do was write down his thoughts “ how hard could it be?
You have no idea how hard it is to write what you really feel. Hermione told me to write down my thoughts, so that is what I’m trying to do.
Today has been hell, and it’s not even eleven o’ clock yet. After you left me last night, I spent a long time thinking about you, and what we’d said to each other. I don’t think selfish was really the right word “ you’re not a selfish person, I know that more than anyone. It’s just that sometimes when you say that you’d do anything to protect me from Voldemort, I start to wonder “ what if you did? And I was left without you, with the thought that if it hadn’t been for my stupid fate, you’d still be alive.
Over the last few months, you, Ron and Hermione have been the only things keeping me sane, and if I lost you now I have no idea how I would get through what ultimately faces me. Please, Ginny “ you’re my rock. Without you now I feel incomplete.
What I wouldn’t give to be someone other than Harry Potter, and live a normal life with the people I love. I just hope that, some day, I can live that life with you.
Harry
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was back at Hogwarts, trying to decide how to give the letter to Ginny. He headed to the Room of Requirement, not wanting to face anybody but himself, but when he got to the picture of Barnaby the Barmy he was surprised to find the door of the room already visible. For some reason unknown to Harry, he automatically took out his wand, then turned the handle of the door as gently as possible, and peered round.
Ginny was sleeping on a four-poster bed, not unlike the ones in Gryffindor Tower, in the middle of a small room with a fire in one corner. The embers in the grate were glowing dimly, and the soft light that they were giving out was glancing over Ginny’s fiery hair, illuminating her pale complexion in the darkened room.
Harry put his wand away, tiptoed cautiously over to where she slept, and knelt beside her. He watched the bed-covers gently rising and falling with her body, and the way her eyelids flickered, showing that she was dreaming. Harry took the carefully folded letter out of his pocket and laid it on the pillow by Ginny’s head, then he got up silently and crept out of the room…
* * *
Ginny woke with a throbbing headache and the definite feeling that she never wanted to leave this comfortable bed. Unfortunately for her, she had Quidditch practise that afternoon, so at some point that day she would have to emerge from the depths of the duvets to face the world outside. She yawned widely, stretching her arms out, then quickly pulling them back in again when she felt how cold the air was compared to that of the bed. But her hand had felt something unfamiliar as it swept over the pillow, and when she rolled over to find out what it was, she saw a piece of folded parchment lying right beside where her head had been only moments before.
Picking it up, half anxiously, half excitedly, she opened it to find handwriting that she knew only too well. Wondering whether to feel angry or grateful, she started to read…
* * *
Harry took his Firebolt out of his trunk and began to walk through the castle, heading for the Quidditch pitch. Ron had left a few minutes earlier in order to avoid Harry, who he wasn’t speaking to again after hearing what he had said to Ginny from fellow Gryffindors. Harry was sure that this practise was going to be extremely awkward, assuming that Ginny had taken one look at his letter before ripping it up, which was what he suspected. He changed quickly, then went out onto the pitch where the rest of the team were awaiting their Captain’s arrival.
“Ok,” he announced when they were all up in the air, ”today we’re going to have a practise game. Chasers obviously shooting through Ron’s hoops; Beaters “ try not to injure any of our players today if you can help it “ one of you can be attacking, one defending. Let’s go.”
The game went fairly smoothly for half an hour or so, but Harry noticed that Ginny was hardly trying, and that she had dropped the Quaffle more than once, which was very unlike her. Harry kicked himself for writing that stupid letter “ she wasn’t going to want him back, and now she would think that he expected it. He called for a time-out, then wandered into the changing rooms to get away from Ron’s reproachful glares for a bit.
“I got your letter.”
Harry took his head out of his hands, and looked up from the bench that he was sat on. Ginny was standing in the doorway. He didn’t know what to say to her, seeing as though he wasn’t even sure whether she had got the letter.
“Oh, um, right,” he stuttered.
Ginny looked him in the eye and Harry found that he could not look away.
“Thanks,” she mumbled gratefully.
Harry smiled because he had never imagined her apologising to him like this. Ginny stepped up to him and he stood up, longing to ask the question which was burning a hole in his head.
“So,” he started cautiously, “are we…?”
“I think that little outburst last night might count as one of the reasons for practising the relaxation,” said Ginny, as though she didn’t want to face his question.
“That’s a good point,” he answered.
“You still want to do it then?”
“Definitely “ it sounds rather intriguing,” said Harry. “How exactly does it work?”
“Ah, that would be telling,” teased Ginny, and she kissed him swiftly on the cheek before turning and walking back out onto the pitch.
The team performed a lot better with their two strongest players in higher spirits than they had been in in a long time.
* * *
After dinner that evening, Harry and Ginny made their way up to the Room of Requirement together. Most people turned their heads as they passed, surprised to see them holding hands after all the yelling that had gone on the night before. When they entered the room, they found themselves in what looked like an endless white space, and when Harry turned to face the door, he saw that it looked as if it were floating randomly; a dot of colour in a sea of blankness.
“Well this is… different,” said Ginny.
“Just a bit,” replied Harry.
They sat down on the floor rather warily, as if they expected something drastic to happen.
“I guess we just get on with it, then,” said Ginny. “I’m going to do a spell on you, just so you know, and you need to keep as calm and relaxed as possible while you’re under it. Ready?”
“What’s going to happen?” asked Harry, feeling a little anxious at this quick start.
“Don’t worry “ you are here to relax after all. It’ll be fine,” answered Ginny vaguely. “Here goes “ remissio!”
She shot the spell at Harry before he had got any further than shutting his eyes. His head suddenly felt empty and he no longer felt the floor beneath him, then he heard Ginny speaking very clearly. It was almost as if she was inside him, and she spoke gently:
“This is what it will feel like when you are under the spell, Harry. Your mind can focus on nothing at the moment except the sound of my voice. Okay, now I want you to relax totally and imagine a time when you were particularly happy, a bit like you would when conjuring a Patronus. Oh, and don’t worry, I can’t see your memory. I’m not that clever.”
Harry started to search through his past, and remembered last Christmas, when he had been sitting by the Common Room fire with Ginny asleep on his lap.
“Try to recall how you felt in the moment you have chosen. Imagine you are there and let the happiness fill you up,” said Ginny’s voice.
Harry found it easy to feel how he might have done then: the warmth of the fire and the touch of Ginny’s hair twirled around his fingers. He could even hear the chatter of other Gryffindors in the back of his mind, although this sound was very distant compared with that of Ginny’s voice.
“I’m going to bring you back to the real world now “ just to check how I’m doing.”
Harry felt his senses gradually coming back to him, and very quickly his mind and body were normal again, and he could open his eyes. Ginny was sitting opposite him, cross-legged, watching him expectantly.
“Well?” she asked.
“Excellent.”
“Really? Oh good. I couldn’t really tell, you see “ you just looked like you were asleep or something.”
“Is it difficult?” asked Harry.
“Not really,” Ginny answered. “It was a bit strange though, don’t you think?”
Harry did understand what she meant. When he was under the spell, it had felt as if they were connected by something deeper than just the sound of her voice, but to say what would have been impossible.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
Ginny shrugged then looked around at their surroundings.
“I wonder whether this place has any walls,” she said, more to herself then to Harry.
She got up and started to wander further and further away from him.
“Er, Ginny?” said Harry. “Maybe you shouldn’t go too far from the door. It would be pretty easy to get lost in here.”
“I doubt it,” she called back, without looking round. “You couldn’t exactly lose a brown door in never ending whiteness, could you?”
This did seem reasonable, but there was something about this room that unsettled Harry.
“I don’t know, it’s just “ “
“If I get lost, I’ll yell, alright?”
She was gradually getting smaller as she walked away from him, and for some reason, Harry started to panic. He got up and ran towards her.
“I’m coming with you then,” he said as he caught up with her.
“You do that,” answered Ginny bluntly.
They walked together for a while as a cold silence descended between them, and Harry started to wonder whether there really were any walls.
“It’s funny,” he said, breaking the pause, “for a place that’s meant to help you relax, it’s surprisingly creepy.”
“It’s not necessarily to help you relax,” said Ginny, who was blatantly in one of her random moods, “it just a good place to do that spell because there’s nothing to distract you.”
“Ok, there’s no need to get in a huff,” mumbled Harry.
“I’m not in a huff,” she answered back.
“Whatever,” said Harry, who didn’t feel like arguing with an hormonal Ginny.
He turned back to check the door and saw that it was now hardly visible.
“We should go back before the door disappears completely,” he told her.
She didn’t say anything, but kept walking determinedly.
“Look,” said Harry crossly, “are you still angry with me about last night or something? Because I thought we’d worked all that out.”
Ginny stopped in her tracks and looked at him, her expression changing for sulky to more softened.
“Sorry “ it’s not you,” she said with resignation. “Well, it sort of is, I just… need some time to myself, that’s all.”
She sighed slightly.
“Do you mind?”
Harry felt a bit worried about her. She seemed suddenly withdrawn and dejected.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ginny smiled, which put his mind at rest.
“Yes, honest,” she said.
“Okay, well I’ll head back to the Common Room in that case. And just be careful in here, alright? This place gives me the shivers.”
Ginny nodded and reached up on tip-toes to kiss him.
“I’ll be fine, Harry, just go!”
She giggled, and Harry’s stomach did a little flutter as her eyes lit up with liveliness like they did so often. In fact, Harry’s stomach hardly ever stopped fluttering when he was with Ginny “ her novelty just did not seem to wear off. She turned away from him, and her vibrant hair flicked over her shoulder.
Harry slowly made his way back to the wooden door, looking back only once at Ginny, and smiling to himself.
A/N: all Fred and George lovers, make sure you read the next chapter!