4- Sweet Dreams

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He looked around him for something—anything—and then he spotted a rock with a jagged edge. It wasn't a knife, but it would do. He grabbed it before he charged forward and hacked the thorns in the process, trying to pull the girl to safety…

But the plants kept coming. He grabbed her hand and pulled her as far away as he could. She kicked out at the vines, and with one more pull, Harry had been able to get her free. He took her hand and pulled her away from the pit, deep into the forest until they were out of breath. Once they were away… the girl looked up at him.

"Thank you…" she said in a soft voice… and that was when he woke up, his father telling him that it was time to get to work.

"I remember," the girl told him as she smiled. "I had been so alone for so long, I wasn't used to seeing people. I thought that you were going to hurt me…"

"Must've been pretty boring here," he asked and she nodded grimly.

"I hated it," she told him sadly. "I don't usually cry, but I was just so upset that day…"

Harry nodded. While he knew that his friend was strong, she must've been stuck here for a long time to cause her to be reduced to tears like that.

With a gentle yawn and the encroaching of sleep, the girl picked up her project to weave the leafy herbs into it. She worked out the tough kinks found in the thickly veined vegetation and was kept awake more by the stringent, spicy smell of the medicinal mash than by the pain in her joints. Even the woody scent of the forest, which always smelled warm with sun by that time of day as if heavy with memories of the forest had grown up, was drowned beneath the powerful smell, as was the cool and earthy scent of the stones made them both tired.

"What are you making?" he asked her.

"Just something to do," she answered. "There's nothing to do but wait for you to come and tell me about your day."

Harry laughed as he stretched out on the warm grass and told her all about how Hedwig was going to have her foal soon, how they worked on the fields and other chores around the farm, and how they were planning on going to the village for supplies tomorrow.

"Don't you ever leave?" he asked her and she gave him a sad look. "I've told you that answer before. I try… but for some reason I can't. It's like I just can't escape. And no matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything from before I got here… only that I've been alone here for a long time."

He sighed. "I know I can't do anything… I'm not even sure it's real… but I wish that I could help."

Ginny smiled and delicately ran a finger along an orbed blossom of a yellow flower that was growing at the foot of the tree.

"This is a Daffodil," she told him as he looked at it.

"And what's it for?" he asked to amuse her.

"Well," she started to say, going back to her work as she talked. Almost nonchalantly she told him, "You give that flower to someone when you want to make a confession you're too afraid to make. Sometimes you can give it to someone to let them know you're apologizing for something, but mostly you give it to someone when you want to tell them you really, really like them. And you hope that they will return your feelings."

He smiled as he looked up at the blue sky through the treetops. And while these dreams were confusing he had also grown to love these long talks.

"Oh, and we have a new helper around the farm," he told her. "His name's Ron… he's been with us for a little while."

The girl looked up. "Ron?" she asked.

"Yeah," he told her, propping up on his elbow to look at her.

"That name sounds familiar," she said thinking it over. "Or… maybe not." She sighed. She looked at him and asked if he could tell her anything else.

"I don't know why you like hearing me talk about chores all the time," he told her.

"Because it's something different," she told him. "Nothing changes here. Please?"

He smiled at her again and went into more details. She didn't say a word as she worked, but he could tell she was listening. So he told her. He explained that with winter coming, they were working on fixing the fence, taking care of their trees and fed the animals. It was funny that she seemed so fascinated by all of it. When he finished she asked, "And why do you come here?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's all a dream and I can't control my dreams."

"But…" she said, reaching out to touch his wrist. "It all feels so real."

He understood what she meant. He could feel it… the slightly warm and soft hand felt so real on his skin… as if she was touching him for real.

"But what other explanation is there?" he asked.

She shrugged as she finished her project. "What is that?"

It was a beautiful green blanket. "Just something to do to keep me busy," she said. "I've got nothing but time here to learn how to do it."

He smiled. "Ah… yeah… it's really good." He never was good at this.

But she knew what he was thinking. She looked up at him one more time before she said softly—the same thing she said whenever it was almost time to leave—"Come back soon…"

And sure enough, Harry opened his eyes to see that he was back in his room.

A/N: Ahh… what do you think about this?

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