Here's the next chapter for 'Toy Soldiers'. I apologize in advance that it's a very short chapter. Both my kids have colds, again, and as usual, I've gotten it, again. I may expand it at some point but for now it seemed a good stopping spot.
The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.
--Publilius Syrus
Ginny watched Harry run as if the demons of Hell were after him. In a way, she guessed, they likely were. It hurt so much to see him this way. She desperately wanted to go to him. She watched as he bounced his way around the bordering ward Bill and Charlie had placed. After the second bounce, he stumbled and hit the ground rather hard.
“He's going to hurt himself, Bill. I have to do something.”
Bill stood in the kitchen, just behind Ginny, also watching the scene unfolding outside. It was lunchtime and he'd just finished putting food on the table.
“He's not going to hurt himself, Gin. Those wards were reinforced with a cushioning charm. You go out there now, he's going to reject you. He'll say something cruel and hurt you.”
Brother and sister watched Harry collapse at Dobby's grave, the young man's shoulders shaking horribly as he bent over the white stone.
“I don't care what he says to me,” Ginny said in a husky voice. She made for the door but Charlie, who had just entered the kitchen from the sitting area, waved his wand to shut the kitchen's back door.
“If he's going to have any chance at healing, he needs to allow himself to feel, the bad along with the good.”
“That doesn't mean he has to be alone,” she argued, stubbornly.
“Yes, I'm afraid it does, Sis,” Bill sighed. “Harry would never let anyone see him in what he'd call a weak moment. If you went out there now, he'd suck all that crap back inside himself where it would fester and make him really sick, physically, as well. We'd be back at square one.”
“Oh, sure,” she snorted, “like we've gotten really far.”
Bill placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Charlie stood on Ginny's other side, placing his hand on her other shoulder. Quietly, Bill spoke.
“Hard as it is to see, he's doing himself some good. It's crucial he makes the first move, Gin. He'd be reaching out, asking for help and we have to be there when he does.”
Ginny nodded mutely, a tear trickling down her cheek. She sniffled. Both men turned at the sound and enfolded her in a warm embrace. Both had always felt a bit protective when it came to Ginny. Their instincts had always been to keep her from the bad parts of life but they'd let her experience enough to nurture her independence. At that moment, both would have given anything to spare her from the pain she felt. Either man would have gladly given up his life if it had meant Harry would have been spared the misery of a life pushing him toward one objective, leaving him floundering when that objective had been accomplished.
For several quiet moments, the trio stood, sniffling the only sounds heard. Ginny pulled back, swiping at her tears as her brothers did the same. She turned and looked at the table behind her, forgotten in the emotional upheaval of the moment.
“Well, let's not let Bill's cooking go to waste. Let's see how much influence Fleur has had on him, shall we?”
Her attempt at brevity worked to a small degree and the trio sat, forcing themselves to eat something.
++++
Harry had no idea how long he'd been hunched over Dobby's headstone. From the cramping in his back and knees, he'd guess for some time. Slowly, he sat up. Lethargy had stolen over him. His arms felt so heavy, his eyelids, too. Stumbling to his feet, he forced one foot in front of the other. Briefly, he contemplated going up to his room but didn't think he could make it that far and wanted nothing to do with the three people inside, so he plopped onto the lounger, curled into a tight ball and fell asleep. He slept, and dreamed.
As often happens when one dreams of horrific experiences, the sequence of the events were out of order and skewed. First, he saw Dobby, whose tennis ball-sized eyes weren't wide and filled with adoration but condemnation.
“Dobby was wrong about Harry Potter! Harry Potter was not a great wizard. No! Harry Potter let me die and many, many others die, too! Harry Potter is a bad, bad wizard!”
“Sorry, Dobby,” slurred Harry. “Didn't mean to.”
“What have I always preached, boy? CONSTANT VIGILANCE! But were you? No! If you had been, people would still be alive. People who deserved to be alive would be!”
“Moody, I tried,” Harry pleaded. “I worked as hard as I could.”
“Harry, how could you let us die? We'd just had Teddy. He needs us and because of you, we can't be there. I take it back. I don't want you to be his godfather. He's better off without you. I don't want you anywhere near him.”
“Remus, Tonks, no, please. I'm sorry. I never meant for you to die.”
“Harry, I take back every time I ever said you were anything like James. You're nothing like him.”
“Sirius, I-”
“Harry, we had such high hopes for you. You let your mother and me down. You were supposed to SAVE the world, not let so many die. And my friends, Harry. How could you let that happen? We're so disappointed in you.”
“Dad, Mum, I'm sorry. I didn't want them to die. I worked as fast as I could.”
“One little task, Harry. Just one. I gave you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger one simple little task. Apparently, I was asking too much of you. Expecting it to be accomplished in a timely fashion was more than you could handle.”
“Professor, I tried. I really did.”
“And you failed. No surprise, really. All those times in my class you failed to produce even the simplest of potions. Should have known you'd fail at this task, too.”
“No, Professor Snape, I-”
The faces of his tormentors closed in on him, all scolding him at once. Harry turned away from one face, only to be confronted by another. His heart began to jump, his breathing became heavy, his head throbbed in time to his heart.
“No. No. No. Go away. Leave me alone. Please leave me alone.”
“HARRY!”
Harry started awake at the harsh call and jarring of his shoulder. He looked up into Charlie's grim face.
“Harry, come on. It's time for supper and you need to eat something.”
“I'm not hungry,” Harry replied coldly.
“I didn't ask if you were,” Charlie returned the tone. “You're going to eat something even if I have to force it down your throat.”
Harry licked his lips. His mouth seemed cottony. His body begged for one thing. He could almost taste it.
“I need a drink.” He put on what he thought passed for a friendly smile. “Come on, Charlie, what do you say? Just one small one?”
Charlie's response to that was to haul Harry to his feet and push him slightly towards the back door.
“Hey!” Harry's faux friendly smile turned into an adversarial frown. “You don't have to get rough. Don't put your hands on me again.”
The two silently entered the kitchen. Harry refused to look at anyone or even to speak. He half-halfheartedly fixed a plate, serving up a tiny portion of the things within his reach. Mostly, he pushed the food around on his plate. His stomach protested just the idea of food. When Charlie stood and started to reach over to him, Harry hastily ingested a couple bites. He immediately wished he hadn't.
Charlie watched as Harry picked at his food. Figuring a little reminder of his earlier threat was in order, he stood. He nearly smiled when Harry shoveled in two forkfuls of food. As he watched, Harry's face went pale then decidedly green. Having known this was likely, Charlie was ready. He rushed to Harry, conjured a rubbish bin and helped the kid outside for a modicum of privacy.
Afterward, Charlie vanished the bin entirely. The back door opened and a cool flannel and glass of water appeared. He took them and passed them to Harry.
“Happy now?” Harry asked bitterly. “You see what I've become?” He unknowingly echoed words Riddle had once said to him. “I can't even keep two bites down. I need a drink.”
“What you need is some solid food. Keep trying. Your system may not be used to it now, but it won't take long.”
“What if I don't want to keep trying? Who asked you anyway?”
“Oh, you're going to keep trying. You see, there's a young lady inside who deserves all the happiness in this world, happiness only you can give her.” Harry derisively laughed at the thought of happiness. “And there's a young man out here who deserves to have that same happiness, something he's had only once before in his life, I think.”
Harry shakily moved around Ginny's brother, entered the house and headed straight to his room without a glance or a word to anyone.
++++
“NO! YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD! I KNOW YOU ARE! YOU HAVE TO BE!”
Three doors slammed open and footsteps thumped down the hall to Harry's room. His door flew inward and three Weasleys spilled into the room, Bill followed by Charlie then Ginny. Harry sat huddled into the corner of the wall on his bed, staring wild-eyed at something to his left.
“YOU'RE NOT ALIVE ANYMORE! I KILLED YOU! I KILLED YOU ! NOW GO AWAY!”
“Nightmare?” Ginny asked tentatively.
“No, worse,” came the terse reply from Bill. “We've entered the hallucination phase.”
“Get off! Get off, get off, get off,” Harry moaned, swiping at invisible objects on his arms and legs.
For the first time since they'd entered his room, Harry acknowledged their presence. He looked right at them then behind them, his eyes rounding in horror.
“Nagini!” Harry scrambled out of bed, looking for his wand. “Where's my wand?” Back at the Weasleys he yelled, gesticulating wildly, “Get out of the way! Can't you see her? She's right there! I don't have my wand. DO SOMETHING!”
“Harry,” Bill spoke calmly, reassuringly, “Harry, there's nothing there. You're seeing things.”
“How can you not see her? She's RIGHT THERE! Do you want to end up bitten like your Dad? Nothing can stop the bleeding from her bites, remember?”
“Harry,” this from Charlie, “Dad's okay. Thanks to you, we got to him in time.”
“No, that's all wrong. He should have died. He was supposed to die.”
The trio of redheads flinched at the vehemence in Harry's voice.
“That's what happens to everyone who hangs around with me. They die and leave me alone.”
“You're not alone, Harry,” Ginny whispered softly, “not anymore.”
Harry recoiled at something on the bed only he could see. He raked his arms across the space in front of him, continuously. He started kicking, as if keeping something back.
“It won't go away,” he moaned, “There's too much. I've never seen so much. Oh, God, snakes. Spiders. Stay back!”
Harry stopped kicking after a couple minutes and stared at his hands, palms up. He looked as if he was going to be sick. He rubbed his hands on his shirt, his sleeves, the blankets, everywhere. At first, his motions were slow but with each perceived failed attempt to clean his hands, his movements became frantic.
“It's not coming off. Help me get it off,”
“Get what off, Harry?” Bill asked.
Harry turned his hands up for all of them to see. His eyes begged them for help.
“The blood. It's everywhere and I can't get it off.”
Ginny gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. She pressed her lips together in an effort not to cry, though tears escaped her eyes. Charlie gulped but stared resolutely at Harry. Silently, Bill was kicking himself. He should have known Harry's guilt would manifest itself in this way. The Healer he'd spoken to had told him to be prepared, to try to imagine the things Harry might 'see'.
“It's okay, Harry,” Bill practically crooned, “I'll take care of it.”
Bill waved his wand and cast a very temporary glamour charm at the bed and at Harry.
“See, it's gone, now.” Bill conjured a steaming cup of chamomile tea. “Here, drink this. It'll help you sleep.”
Like a trusting child, Harry took the cup Bill held out, cupping his hands around its warmth and sipped the tea. Halfway through the tea, Harry yawned. He rubbed one eye vigorously.
“Here, let me take that cup for you.”
Bill still spoke softly, as if speaking to a distressed child. And indeed, that was how Harry seemed to be acting. Like a young child who'd had a bad dream and needed the comfort of his loved ones. As Harry lay back down, Bill tucked the blankets around him, singing quietly the lullaby Molly sang to all her kids in times of distress. Harry yawned again, rolled to his side and slept.
Ginny, Charlie, and Bill tip-toed out the door and down the stairs. This time Charlie set about making tea, while Bill and Ginny sat at the table.
“Well, that was interesting,” Charlie noted, bringing the tea to the table.
Bill snorted, “Which part?”
“The way he acted before he fell asleep,” Ginny answered quietly, “It was so...childlike.”
“Yeah, compared to how that all started.”
"It was something else the Healer had told me about. I had told him that the person who was sick had been an orphan and never knew a loving hand. He told me that Harry, though he didn't know it was Harry, might regress at some point to a child-like state, temporarily. He said that if that happens, to give him what he'd missed and needed at the moment.”
“In other words, act like his mum or dad,” Charlie clarified.
“It's only temporary, right?”
“Yes, Sis, it's only temporary. By morning, he'll likely not even remember anything that happened and be back to his old unforgiving self.”
A look of determination crossed her features.
“Whatever it takes.”
The three traded glances and the men answered simultaneously.
“Agreed.”
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hpgw100 comm.
chipper
sleepy
anxious
annoyed
cheerful
sick
curious