Title:
"Seeking Ginny"
Author: Casca
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through Goblet
Classification: Post-Hogwarts H/G, Post-HBP AU
Summary: For years, Ginny Weasley has tried to bring to an
end to her feelings for Harry Potter… she's even uprooted her life… but what
happens when it's time to come face to face with him again? A post-Hogwarts
tale revolving around Ginny's discovery of herself…while coming to terms with
her feelings for Harry.…
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations
created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited
to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros.
Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.
A/N: I know I said it wouldn't be up today… but I
slaved to make it happen. Thanks to Emmyjean for putting up with my temper
tantrums reguarding this chapter and thanks to my dear, dear naggers. Love you
all!
This chapter has been rewritten as of
February 2007.
Chapter Twelve
On
Christmas night, Ginny had a dream. She was in her darkened bedroom and she was
alone…with the exception of one person. Harry was with her… he cupped her face
in his hands and bent his head towards hers and for one blissful moment, the
world was as it should be. Then before she knew what was happening, she went
flying backwards. She reached out but something solid held her back and it was
then that she realized that Harry was the one pushing her from him despite her
struggle.
Then
she was falling, falling through the air until her body landed like a sack on
the stairs of the Burrow and down she went, hitting every step before landing
in a heap at the bottom. Struggling, reached for the stairs to pull herself up but she could have been made of lead. She managed
to flip over onto her back and watched, horrified, as a deep red blood spread
wildly across her chest so that her sweater was almost completely crimson.
Her mother was pleading with her. "Ginny, please.
I'm not going to ask you again. Great Auntie Muriel's just arrived and you're
being terribly rude."
Molly's words echoed, along with a voice in Ginny's head that urged her
eyes to open. It took a long time to manage it, but at last, her eyelids
fluttered and she stared into her mother's frowning face.
"It's nearly noon, Ginny. Noon. The guests are arriving and you're
still in bed and – look at this room, I thought you told me last night you
would tidy it before bed."
The reality of the morning came slowly crashing down upon her. It was
Boxing Day. There was one day left before the holidays were finished. But
before she could think about that, before she could even begin to feel relieved
that life would go back to normal after today, things began to move. Molly
walked brusquely to the window shade, pulled it up and began speaking, not
bothering to notice that Ginny had pressed her fingers over her eyes to recover
from the bright sun.
Her heart was still beating at a rapid pace and she was hot all over.
Harry was all over.
As her mum kept on, the frustration from not being
able to have a moment to herself during the past few days flooded over her as
though it, too, had been waiting just outside the window. She didn’t want
the sun. She didn't want the day to start yet. She just wanted to lay in bed
for five bloody minutes without the world moving.
"Sorry, Mum. I overslept."
"Right, I thought I'd be nice and let you have a late start. But noon? Honestly! You are not a child, Ginny, you
are an adult–"
"I wouldn’t go that far," Ginny mumbled,
stubbling out of bed and stepping over a pile Christmas present wrapper to get
to the door.
"— it's about time you started acting like one!"
The very last person she wanted to see during the first minutes of the
day was Great Auntie Muriel so she headed up the stairs instead of down and
closed herself in the loo, ignoring the cheerful "Morning, sunshine!"
from Fred as he passed. She turned the
dial of the shower and when the mirrors were steamed enough to know that the
water was scorching, she stepped inside and yanked the curtain closed.
During the last forty-eight hours, showering was the only time anyone
inhabiting the Burrow had to themselves and at that moment Ginny cherished it
almost painfully. She'd had the fortune over Christmas to share her bedroom
with Angelina Johnson and though she was fond of Angelina, she hadn't been in
the mood to share her only source of solitude. This was particularly true after
working on a very busy Christmas Eve and arriving home to a house filled with
guests and a frantic sister-in-law ready to give birth to a baby whom they had
all mistakenly thought would be the second Weasley witch in five
generations.
Usually, Ginny didn’t mind the noise and chaos. Usually, she loved it. Just not this year.
Great Auntie Muriel, despite her insistence on asking Ginny to expand on
the details of her love life every time they came in contact with each other,
gave fantastic presents. At least to Ginny. Fred and George stared gloomily at
the antique fishing rods that she'd given them, no doubt trying to come up with
something funny to make of them, but Ginny gave a feminine sigh when she opened
her own gift.
"It's an heirloom, as well," Auntie Muriel said in her low,
scratchy voice, as she drew on her pipe and Ginny studied the antique jeweled
pendant on a thin copper chain. "Elvin-made. I am going to die, and
probably soon," she said matter-of-factly as Molly winced, "And I'm
preparing for it by giving away the important heirlooms so the bandit-goblins
won’t take it all the moment I'm in the ground."
Great Auntie Muriel had been talking about the
"bandit-goblins" clearing out her house after she died for as long as
Ginny could remember. Who these bandit-goblins were and why they were after
Muriel's possessions was beyond anyone's knowledge.
"Thank you, Auntie, it's lovely," Ginny said, kissing her on
the cheek. And it was…a small ruby-red stone, shaped like a jagged icicle was
wrapped ornately with copper wire and hanging from a very fine chain. Great
Auntie Muriel explained that the necklace had once belonged to Ginny's ancestor
Enid.
"She was a marvelous witch," Muriel said, her eyes twinkling.
"Or so I've been told. Strong … and full of courage - the reckless sort,
I've heard. But then, we Prewetts are a long line of strong, courageous
witches."
She winked at Ginny, who managed a week smile and couldn’t quite meet
her aunt's eyes. If this necklace was supposed to symbolize the Prewett family
traits of strength and courage, she was afraid they were the very last
qualities that came to mind as she thought of herself at that moment.
Her mind flashed to an image of herself one
week ago, sitting at this very table, a host of newspapers spread out before
her. The words on one of the pages were embedded in her mind: Ministry of
Magic Hiring Certified Mermish Linguist … requires global travel, as well as
underwater travel to various Mermish establishments…must be certified in
Mermish, and fluent in English … based out of The Ministry of Magic in
She'd stared at that job description for a long time. Based
in
Boxing day was no exception. Ginny mingled with
relatives and made sure there was plenty of food and drink, allowing herself to peer over her shoulder everytime the post
arrived…and everytime the doorbell rang.
But no letters had come from the Ministry… and Harry hadn’t been by to
pay a visit for the holiday. When she opened the door during a hectic hour to
find a handsome, blue-eyed wizard standing there, she couldn't help her smile
from faltering as all the emotions that were being held under the surface
seemed to rear up.
"Bri."
Looking at Brian - familiar, comforting Brian - standing in the doorway,
with the snowy fields behind him and Christmas presents in his hands was all
she could do not to throw herself into his arms.
"Happy Christmas, love," Brian said, stepping inside and
wrapping her in a hug. Ginny found herself holding onto him tightly.
"Happy Christmas, prat," she said, pulling away and grinning.
"Come on in. Give me your cloak. D'you want some
cocoa? Gingerbread? A seven-course
meal?" The happiness to see Brian combined with her jittery nerves
left her a bit on the hyper side.
"I can’t eat another thing, thanks. Here's more, from my mum."
He held up a brightly decorated tin with a large red bow. "It's her fudge,
I think."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, remembering Mrs. McGuire's fudge from the
many times she had sent it to Ginny and Brian in
Though she had lived with Brian for nearly five years, she purposefully
left the door to her bedroom open lest her mother have a fit and say it was
'inappropriate' in front of Auntie Muriel. She retrieved Brian's Christmas gift
from her closet and handed it to him with a flourish, accepting hers with equal
enthusiasm. She fixed him with a secret smile as she sat herself down on her
bed and pulled her legs underneath her.
"Shall we?"
He raised his eyebrows as he dragged her desk chair out and straddled
it. "Shall we… what?"
Ginny goggled at him. "Shall we count down from ten? You know… the
same stupid, juvenile tradition we’ve carried on with since the first Christmas
in the flat?"
"Oh, that," he said, smirking.
"Yes, that," she grinned, peering at him peculiarly.
"What's wrong with you, are you tipsy from all the holiday cheer?"
He lifted his shoulder. "Haven't been in a holiday cheer sort of
mood lately. I've been working a lot."
"Yeah…that's going around, isn’t it? So, what's new, then? We
haven’t really… spoken in a while. Things have been manic, haven’t they?"
Brian nodded
slowly but before he could respond, Molly bustled past the door exclaiming,
"Oh, Remus are you leaving? Well, don’t get too far, I've a package
that I want you to take to Harry."
Ginny paled. The mere mention of
his name was enough to send her back to that darkened room in Number 12
Grimmauld Place. A gut-wrenching, sickening feeling spread like fire through
her, a feeling she was almost used to. It didn’t matter where she was or what
she was doing, it came upon her like a vice… and it didn’t let go easily.
In her haste, Molly had closed the bedroom door as she had passed and
Ginny stared at it lifelessly for a moment before turning to Brian.
"Erm…" she managed. She had to say something. Time was bloody
well moving again and Merlin knew it wouldn’t stop for anything "So …
where were we?"
It was a long moment before Brian prompted, "We haven’t
spoken."
"Right," she said, her voice dry.
"Yeah, it's… it's been manic at the shop, I don’t even… I don’t even know
how much we sold but—"
"Look at you," Brian cut in, staring at her. "It's like…
all someone has to do is mention his bloody name and you look like you want to
crawl out of your skin."
She went completely still.
"Ginny, I just…" Brian looked at his hands for a moment,
shaking his head as he gathered the words, "Sarah and I waited for you in
that pub forever. She told me that you were going to stop by Potter's house,
but just to drop something off and it should only take a few minutes. But then
an hour passed… then two hours. And Sarah was starting to worry. And I knew… I
bloody knew it had something to do
with him. And there I was, feeling like an arse because I clearly don’t know
the half of it. Beecause you don’t talk
to me about him."
Ginny turned away. Over the past few weeks, she had slowly but surely
built a steady wall inside of her to block any shame she might have felt about
whathad happened that night… and she could feel it getting stronger by the
second as she sat there, listening to Brian. She wasn't going to let him break
through. She couldn’t.
But Brian continued,
"We sat and waited and wondered what the hell was going on. We
agreed to meet at the shop the next day and see if you turned up before
contacting your parents," he crossed his arms, "And that's when you
decided to make your appearance. You showed up at the shop, practically
frostbitten, saying that you were fine and that we
should reschedule our dinner… and because of the mobs of customers waiting at
the door, we had to leave it at that."
Ginny took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. She looked at Brian,
wanting to feel badly that she wasn't going to share what he so desperately
wanted to hear. He wanted her to confide in him about Harry, about everything.
It was a pride issue, it always had been for him. But
she wasn't going to give in to that. "What do you want me to say, Brian?
I'm sorry that I left you waiting?" She lifted a brow. "It's not as
though you've never left me sitting in a pub waiting for you to show up."
There was a long pause. "Right. Well, at
least I had the decency to send you owls to let you know that I wasn't lying face-down in an alley somewhere."
Ginny snorted. "You obviously have a selective memory."
Brian furrowed his brow. "Why are you acting so defensive here?
Something happened that night and I'm trying to tell you that I'm concerned
about you—"
"And I'm trying to tell you that I'm fine. I'll get over it, I have
before. It's nothing for you to be concerned about."
Brian stared at her and Ginny looked unwaveringly back before a tap on
her bedroom window made them both turn in surprise. There was a moment where
they looked at the owl flapping its wings just outside before Brian turned
around and shoved the window open. A gush of cold air rushed in, along with a
tawny owl carrying an official-looking letter. Ginny stared as Brian untied the
letter, his eyes pausing on the Ministry of Magic seal before he lifted them to
her.
"
Ginny felt like seething. Now? The letter had
to come now, and fall into Brian's
hands of all people?
"It's nothing," she tried to say, but at his furious look, she
shook her head. "Fine. You know, I wanted to wait
until I bloody knew something before
telling anyone. I applied for a job in
She watched him blink, watched him process it for a moment before
continuing,
"It was just an impulse that I had… I saw an opening and I applied.
And that letter," she continued, swallowing the lump in the back of her
throat as she looked at the envelope, "is probably notice that I haven’t
qualified for the position."
"But," Brian asked as he stared confusedly at the envelope he
held, "Why would you apply for a job in
"I wasn't looking to
apply, I just saw that they had a position open for a Mermish Linguist
and–"
"Mermish?" Brian cut in with
his eyebrows raised.
"Yeah… I know, it sounds like really a great opportunity."
Ginny confirmed, knowing Mermish Linguist positions were nearly impossible to
come by, "I just saw it and… and like I said… acted on impulse."
He stared at her for a moment, then shook his
head as though to keep any more confusion from settling in. "Wait a
minute. Let me get this straight…you decided to apply for a job - on an impulse - and if you do happen to get this
job, you're going to move to another country and abandon Sarah with the
business you started two months ago—"
"I would not be abandoning Sarah—"
"Yes, you would." He looked her directly in the eye. "You
would. Don’t sugar-coat this.”
"Look, I went to University to become a professional linguist, not
… to sell hair potions to Hogwarts students. I should be doing something with
my education."
Brian was silent for a moment. "So, you're bored."
"I'm not bored, I'm being sensible."
"Sensible? Then why don't you just say it, Ginny?" he said
quietly as he bent his head to look her in the eye, "You're going back to
Ginny looked back at him, shocked at his bluntness, trying to keep
her emotions in check. She wasn't lying to herself. She knew what was driving
her back there. She knew that when you stripped away the glamour job and the
exciting city, all that was left was her fear and her shame … and him. It would
never be over, this war between Harry and herself. But it was easier to forget
him in
Brian stared at her for a moment, then let out
a dry laugh. "I really have to go."
His sarcasm set off a spark of temper in her. "Go on, then,"
she snapped. "You know, if you were my
friend—"
"If I'm your friend, then you owe me an explanation for this,"
he said, his eyes blazing, "Because I'm on the verge of reporting you to
the goddamned Ministry for being under the Imperius. In fact, maybe we should
call Potter, isn’t mind control his specialty?"
"If I want to move to
Brian looked at her for a long time. "That's that, is it?"
She crossed her arms and met his gaze unwaveringly. "Yes."
"Then I'm really going," he said, standing and lifting the
brightly wrapped present she had given him. For a moment, Ginny felt a spark of
fear that this had done something to their friendship that couldn’t be fixed.
"Won’t you at least open it?" she asked, referring to the her gift.
"Like I said." He lifted his
eyes to hers and she felt the wall stengthen within her at the keen
disapointment she saw there. "I'm
not in a holiday sort of mood." He paused for a moment then looked back at
her as though he didn’t want to leave it like that. "I'll just open it
later."
She nodded. "Will I see you for—" she started to ask, but he
had already Disapparated.
~*~
The letter hadn't been a confirmation of employment… nor had it
been a notice stating that she hadn’t received the job. Instead, it brought
something that she didn’t want – more time to wait until she knew if she had
the position. She was scheduled for a floo interview on December thirty-first
when she would meet with a Ministry representative and give an interview to see
if she qualified.
The nerve-wracking feeling inside of her was something that she
despised. She didn’t enjoy having no control over this. As it was, she had
forced herself to believe that moving back to
Still, thoughts of Sarah caused her to pause, allowing the seeds of
doubt to grow every so slightly. Sarah was a very understanding friend. She
understood Ginny, and she understood about Harry. Ginny felt very strongly that
confiding about the night in
She assured herself, however, that she would have the courage. The
process of erasing that night had already begun and if she could distance
herself enough, she would be able to tell Sarah everything. She held onto that
as the days progressed and New Years Eve came closer.
After working a chaotic day in the midst of customers returning and
exchanging products, Ginny Apparated in front of a cheery brick house still
decorated with Christmas lights and holly and walked up the path with a nervous
grin on her face. It was a nerve-wracking thing, meeting your nephew for the
very first time, and she almost smoothed out her hair before realizing that the
baby, who was proudly named for Ginny's father, was only a mere two days old
and would certainly not judge her on appearances.
The peaceful neighborhood atmosphere evaporated the minute she stepped
foot inside the house. There were pounding footsteps and several crashes, but
nobody occupying the living room and she looked around in confusion, wondering
who had yelled for her to come in, when she was greeted by a five-year old boy…
a five-year old boy who happened to be completely naked.
"I told you to get dressed!"
Charlie appeared, gripping what was obviously the naked childs clothing and pulled the giggling boy to the ground.
Struggling to yank a shirt over his son's head, he hissed, "Be quiet,
won't you, the baby is sleeping!"
But Julian rolled around on the floor, laughing and shrieking as his dad
fought to pull trousers over kicking legs. Once he was properly dressed and
buttoned, the boy stopped thrashing about and collapsed with his eyes closed
and arms spread wide. At once, he pretended to snore.
Charlie looked up at Ginny from the floor. "I once single-handedly
took control of a four-ton Swedish Shortsnout and his two-ton baby sister – all
before breakfast."
Ginny couldn’t help smiling. "It was time you moved on to bigger
and better things."
"Is that right?" he asked, standing up. "Come on
upstairs. The baby's napping."
"I don’t want to wake him," she said uncertainly, bending down
to press a kiss to Julian's cheek. Her nephew promptly wiped it off.
"You won't – he doesn’t even move." Charlie cast a glance at
Julian, who was pretending to twitch in his pretend slumber, and shuddered. "Yet."
Walking into the nursery was like stepping into another world. The walls
were splashed with painted clouds that floated in white tufts through a painted
blue sky as tiny brush-stroked birds fluttered across the ceiling and landed on
a mural of a tall birch tree that stretched up and over the wooden crib.
Peaceful forest sounds filled the room and a mural of a babbling brook actually
babbled. Even so, Ginny's eyes were drawn not to the elaborately painted walls,
but to Emma, who was sitting in a rocker, holding a bundle of blue blankets.
"Is he sleeping?" Ginny whispered. Her heart gave a lurch at
the little shock of red hair peeking out from the blankets.
"He's just woken up," Emma said, standing with the baby and
shifting the blankets so that a chubby face appeared under a streak of frizzy,
ginger hair.
"Oh," Ginny breathed. All she could do was stare. "He
looks like you," she said after a while, sending a dirty look to
her brother who grinned and wrapped his finger around a curl that was sticking
up on his son's head.
"One of these days we'll have one who looks like Emma."
"Don’t count on it. You Weasleys don’t know how to share,"
Emma replied, and taking Ginny by surprise, she lid the newborn baby from her
own arms and into Ginny's without hesitation. "Did you ask her?"
"Ask who?" she murmured, staring down at the little cherub in
her arms and becoming instantly mesmerized.
"No, I was dressing Julian when she came in," Charlie
answered. "Hey, Gin, d'you want to be Arthur's godmother?"
Ginny's jaw dropped. She looked between her brother and sister-in-law
and back down to Arthur, completely taken aback. "I—of course!" she responded
before she could think. She looked back down at her little nephew and whispered
a tiny hello. "I'm your Auntie Ginny," she said softly. "I
promise I'll always give you sweets when your mum and dad say no."
Arthur struggled a bit and Ginny smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his
smooth forehead. She thought of Julian wiping her kiss off not five minutes ago
and vowed to make sure that little Arthur grew up loving her. She would just
have to be around more often, she thought blankly, to convince him that she was
indeed much cooler than his uncles. But something very heavy fell into her
stomach at the thought. She wouldn’t be around. Not if she moved to Paris.
Cradling Arthur in one arm, she let him wrap his tiny baby fingers
around her thumb and lifted him closer to lay her cheek against the top of his
soft head. She hadn’t allowed herself to
think about what she was going to miss by moving away but it was hard not to
ache at the thought of walking away from this little angel who was gripping her
finger with all of his baby strength and know that she would not see him again
for months.
On New Years Eve, Ginny told Sarah the very first lie she had ever
uttered to her friend and it hadn’t been without regret. She told her that she
had to leave early because she needed to help her mum with something. She knew
that the person conducting the interview would be coming into her fireplace,
but that was all she knew, so she planted herself in front of the fire when she
got home and waited.
At exactly one o'clock, blue flames erupted and even though she had been
waiting for them, she jumped in surprise. A women's head appeared, the fire
reflected in thick glasses that were perched on a long nose. Ginny straightened
her back and folded her hands on her lap, smiling.
The woman introduced herself as Ms. Staunton, a member of
"One of the Ministry's top priorities right now is documentation of
the second war," Ms. Staunton explained. "It's quite the intensive
project as you can imagine. We have committees organized throughout all of our
Ministries to gather and properly organize factual information. The Magical
Translation departments have the humongous task of gathering information
regarding the many different species of the wizarding world.
"The merpeople saw plenty of the war, as you may or may not be
aware of. The knowledge of what they encountered is extremely important and we
want it. Considering the rather… inconvenient location of merpeople's
whereabouts, this will be a Herculean task. I know I'm up for the challenge.
The question is: are you?"
She paused for dramatic effect and Ginny smiled, appreciating the
enthusiasm as Ms Staunton explained more about the position. It wouldn’t be a
simple job. There was even a one month training period where the members would
be crashed-coursed in underwater travel.
"It's not a mere swimming lesson," Ms. Staunton said
matter-of-factly. "You will need to have an intense understanding of the
underwater world before making a dive. You will need to brush up on defense and
get into physical shape. The hours will be long. The work is intense. But the
rewards, in my book, outweigh all of that. You will have opportunities most
wizards and witches dream about. You will essentially be visiting cities and
towns beneath the surface of the world and be able to speak with not only their
dwellers but their leaders as well."
Ms. Staunton went on to speak about salary and benefits but Ginny could
barely hear her for the pounding in her head. She felt the fire igniting again
and within moments, it was blazing. She knew this feeling. This feeling had
resulted in going to University in
Oh, God.
She wanted to sustain the thrill that was coarsing through her. She
wanted to grab hold of all the reasons why she shouldn’t do this and use them
as a shield against the pure, unadulterated excitement that was pulsating
through her. She wanted to think about this rationally and not let her emotions
overrule.
But before she knew it, the interview was over and she began to move.
She stood and paced. She let her mind work faster than it had in weeks. If she
had to be there in two weeks, then she would have to start preparing straight
away. She needed to talk to her parents. She needed to talk to her brothers.
She needed to tell Sarah.
~*~
It was nearing seven o'clock. The New Years Eve party was starting at
Bottomless Goblet and Sarah would be at the Burrow any minute so that she and
Ginny could Apparate together. But Ginny was in no position to go anywhere. She
was standing the middle of the chaos that was her bedroom with her empty trunk
opened beside her bed and piles of clothes stacked over every surface of the
room. She'd been packing… and unpacking … and packing again. One minute she was
absolutely going to take the job in
But after pacing some more and gazing at the café apron she'd tied on
her closet door, Ginny decided that it was worth it… that no price was too big…
that she wasn't passing this opportunity for anybody and if they all wanted to
call her selfish, then they could do that very thing.
Then she thought of Harry. Was this still about Harry? Was he even a factor anymore? Her brain was so
befuddled and her heart was so wound-up that she couldn’t find the truth.
But then… the truth was so simple. It wasn't about Harry. This was about
her and about this opportnity. She felt in her bones that this was right for
her, that this was something she had been waiting for. She ached for it. And if
she turned it down, the ache would turn to regret and she hated that more than
anything.
She didn’t want any more regrets in her life.
Sarah arrived on time at quarter past seven as they had planned and
knocked briefly at Ginny's door before pushing it open. Ginny hadn’t changed
her clothes. Her hair was still a mess. And her trunk was still packed. She'd
been focusing with all her might on keeping her life regret-free and vowing
that everyone would understand eventually… and then Sarah looked at the trunk.
"What on earth? Are you going somewhere?"
Sarah looked worried. Of course she looked worried. Ginny felt felt a
strong pressure in her chest. She needed time to stand still now, dammit. This
was her very oldest and dearest friend and she needed time to find the perfect
words, the perfect way to explain.
But Sarah, when worried, couldn’t stay still. "Why haven't you
changed out of your smock? Did something happen? Your mum was quiet when I came
in. Is it Ron in
"No," Ginny assured her. "Everything… everything is fine.
I'm just…. Sarah, I have to tell you something."
Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh, no." She
winced as though physically bracing for some sort of horrible news. "What?
Whatever it is, just say it, Ginny… I can't take suspense."
Smiling weakly, Ginny said softly, "I've decided to move back to
Sarah opened her eyes. "What?"
Her less-than-violent reaction was a surprise. "I… I had an
interview this afternoon for a position in
Ginny looked up and tried not to wince herself. If she had been
expecting a delayed reaction from Sarah, then she had been wrong. Her friend's
face rang of stunned betrayal.
"You went on an interview? A job interview?"
"Yes. I need for you to hear me out on this, Sarah—"
"I thought you said you were helping your mum with something."
Ginny blinked and didn’t understand what she was saying at first, then
closed her eyes. "I-I lied to you about that. I'm so sorry. Look, please,
just hear me out."
"I don’t need to hear you out." Sarah's face was set, her
mouth formed one thin line. "I know why you're doing this, so don’t bother
telling me some pack of lies. This is because of Harry. It's because of
whatever happened when you went to see him that night. Isn’t it?"
Ginny's heart stopped. She hadn’t expected this, not so soon.
Swallowing, and holding out her hands, she answered, "It was at first. But
everything is different now."
"I knew I should have forced you to tell me what happened,"
Sarah said fiercly. "I knew the moment I looked at your face that morning.
What happened that night, Ginny?"
Ginny closed her eyes. Not yet. "Sarah…listen, I was feeling trapped after that night and
I was making decisions from that same
old shame and that same old fear. But it's different now. The – the job is a
really amazing opportunity, I can’t even describe to you how extraordinary. It
involves underwater travel, to visit merpeople establishments and document the
second war and… it's a huge project and they've selected only a handful out of
hundreds of applicants and mine was one of them! I can’t pass it up, can you understand that?"
But Sarah had started shaking her head before Ginny had even finished.
"You… you haven’t a clue how utterly ridiculous you sound, do you? Ginny…
do you think I'm stupid? Do you really have such little respect for me?"
Speechless, Ginny gawked at her. "I—What?!
Of course I respect you, what are you—"
"You can't respect me. You can't feed me this rubbish about a job
and still have any respect for me! It's about Harry, it's always about Harry,
don't use the job to cover it up!"
"I know it's about Harry," she replied in a harsh voice.
"You don’t think I know that? But… it's not only about him, it's me, Sarah, me who I have to do this for."
"Right, I understand how selfish you are, Ginny, you don’t have to
give me yet another example," came Sarah's sarcastic response.
Ginny pressed a hand to her mouth. "Sarah. My goodness…I thought
you would at least try to understand."
"Understand?" Sarah whisperred.
"I understand that I have always been there for you, encouraging you,
never standing in the way when you decided to act on your little whims. Go to
Univeristy in
"Yes, Harry Potter," Ginny said and her voice was void of any
emotions at all. She had felt the wall rebuilding itself at Sarah's accusatory
tone and it gave her courage. She had to tell her. It was the only thing to
make her understand. "Do you want to know what happened that night? Fine. I kissed him." Her hands began to tremble and she
refused to look at Sarah. "I kissed him and he pushed me away like I was
a—" She broke off and took a deep breath, concentrated on keeping her
voice still.
"He'd been suffering from a horrible bout of insomnia and … and I
let myself fall right back into helping him. He fought me tooth and nail, and
in the end we were just… we were connecting like we used to. We talked about
things that I never—I told him about
There was a ringing silence. She stared at her bed, telling herself to
be ready for the pity… and for the shame. But she turned to her friend and saw
that Sarah's blue-gray eyes were completely unreadable.
"And now you're running away to
The trembling in Ginny's body was increasing so badly, it felt as though
she were standing in the freezing cold. "I'm trying to do what's best for myself."
"That's what you said the last time you went to
"Excuses? Did you hear what
I said, Sarah, I kissed him!"
"Oh, hell, Ginny, so you kissed him!" she exploded. "So what?! You
did what you should have done years ago! Do you honestly think that Harry never
expected it?"
Ginny stared back in horror but Sarah wasn't finished.
"How will you ever respect yourself after this? When this … this
impulse dies off – and believe me, it will – how will you justify that you ran
away after the first complication?"
Ginny couldn’t speak, couldn't even gather the words to form a coherant
sentence. "I… what … what would you have me do, then?" she managed. "R-risk my own pride to stay here? You know… the answer
isn’t always c-clean and perfect, s-sometimes we have to – to do things to help
ourselves no matter if it's … if it's the right thing to do—"
"I see. Well in that case, I won’t ask you to stay here. I can
handle the shop. I can handle everything. I will work on paying you back the
gold that you put into it—"
"No, my goodness, I don't want that – I love that shop, Sarah, I
love what we made it—"
"Well, it's mine now so I'll see to it that you're paid back."
"Please, wait!" Ginny exclaimed and began to grasp at the last
bit of reasoning she could hold onto. "Sarah, don’t you see? I went to
It was a long moment before Sarah spoke. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?
I'm sorry for what you must be going through and I'm sorry that I can’t support
you. But I am so disappointed, Ginny. I am so hurt that you're doing this and
that…when everything is said and done…you gave up on yourself."
Ginny tried with all of her might to block the pain from Sarah's
words…but she was shattered inside. "I'm not," she choked, "I'm
not g-giving up on myself, please—"
Sarah shook her head and said firmly, "If I thought you really were
doing this for the opportunity then I’d be packing your bags for you – but
you’re not. It's because of him that you're leaving your entire life behind. Your family, your friends, everything.
Congratulations, you finally chose Harry over everyone else, even yourself. I
think it's rather sickening to be honest with you. Have a nice life in
And she Disapparated with a pop that rang like
a death knell in the silent room.
~*~
Ginny didn’t know how long she cried into her pillow before the door to
her bedroom opened softly. Without words, her mother's warm arms came around
her. She sobbed for a long time after and didn’t stop as Molly smoothed her
hair from her face. And before Ginny could think about it, before she could do
anything to stop it, everything was pouring out of her faster than the tears.
"I don’t know what to do. I can’t stay here. It's Harry, Mum, it's all because I can’t stop loving him. And he
doesn’t love me. He never has. I'm so ashamed of myself, so ashamed."
"Shhh," Molly soothed and Ginny let her. It had been so long
since her mother had held while she cried. Oddly, horrifically, she was reminded
of Tom Riddle. Her mother had held her in the same fashion the summer after her
terrifying first year at Hogwarts. So many nightmares…so much shame…she had
thought she would never, ever be normal again. The only happiness she'd felt
that summer was from the first pure inkling of a strong, almost worshipful love
for the boy who had risked his young life to save hers.
"I need to go back, Mum," she murmured. "I just need
to."
Much later, she awoke with the fuzzy, unconscious feeling that something
was wrong. Her eyes felt heavy when she opened them and she strained her ears
but nothing met her besides the creaks and groans of her old house. An awful,
uneasy feeling settled into her gut. She remembered Sarah. She remembered her
new job. She remembered everything in one hazy flash of the mind. But she was
too tired to deal with it. She had a headache. Her eyes felt swollen and itchy.
The fatigue pulled them closed again and she let herself drift away when a
soft, almost inaudible knock came from her bedroom door.
Her eyes opened. Her mind was thrown from its stupor into a state of
consciousness. There was someone at her door… in the middle of the night. Her
brain took a moment to come to terms. It was probably her mum, coming to check
on her again. Or maybe Sarah…? Struggling to sit up, she found the time on her
nightstand reading one o'clock.
One o'clock. The new year had come and gone. Rubbing her aching eyes,
she managed only to mumble a rough "come in" and pulled herself into
a sitting position.
The door opened slowly, as though the one opening it was hesitating and
Ginny blinked as a small bit of light seeped in from the corridor.
"Ginny?" came the uncertain voice and it caused all the breath
to leave her. It wasn't her mum. It wasn't Sarah. She was stunned into a numb
silence. "I'm sorry. Bloody hell. You're sleeping."
Harry was in her bedroom in the dead of night and he was speaking to
her. But…no, he wasn't. This was a dream. God, she needed to stop dreaming
about him. Her eyes were still blurry from sleep and all the crying, but she
could make out his casually-dressed form, the glint of his glasses and hair so
black there was a hint of blue in it. And his eyes… the color of his eyes was
visible to her in any state of unconsciousness. If this was a dream, then why
was he standing as far away as he could without actually being in the corridor?
Why was he not joining her in bed as he so often did in her dreams?
Her body burned. Her mind went places that she couldn’t help. This
wasn't a dream. This was real. And the Harry in her mind was pressing her into
her bed while the real Harry was close enough to touch. The massive emotions
fought with the heat that was building inside of her and all the while, nothing
covered her body but an old undershirt and a pair of flimsy shorts.
And all she could say was, "Are you
okay?"
The frown line was visible on his forehead even in the darkness.
"Yeah. I'll go. I'm sorry."
"Wait," she blurted and snapped herself away from the emotions
and the heat to reach for her wand on the nightstand to light a candle in the
midst of the godforsaken darkness that she always managed to find herself in
with him. There was nothing but clutter on the nightstand. Fumbling, she
spotted her wand tangled in the blankets on the floor, and she leaned far over,
stretching her fingertips as far as they could go to reach the bloody thing,
managing only to knock it out of reach as Harry took one step forward and
tapped the candle with his own wand. Simple as that, they were bathed in soft,
flickering light.
And it all came back. The emotions. The heat. The memory of that kiss.
She knew he was thinking about it, too, no matter the temperature of his body
or the emotions that went with it. She had wanted Harry in so many respects
over the years, be it emotional or physical or romantic, but the need that
existed in her now was so complete that all she could do was lay down any sense
of self-preservation and hope beyond hope that he had come here to tell her
that he wanted her too.
He was having trouble speaking. "I…shouldn’t have come here like
this. I should have waited. I'm sorry."
"What's wrong?" she asked, and her own voice was tiny and
weak.
"I had to…I wanted to talk to you. I just saw your
friend...Sarah. She came to see me a
little while ago. She said that you were moving back to
Ginny stared at him. There could be no pretenses, she realized with a
horrible, sinking feeling. She couldn’t lie to him. "Yeah … I am."
Ask me not to go.
The voice in her head had asked him that question once before, a long
time ago. And Ginny saw, as the line of guilt creased his forehead and his eyes
turned into pools of green pity, that she had once again asked that question in
vain.
"Is it," he began and stopped for a moment before continuing,
"I don’t want this to sound…" He broke off, shook his head.
"Does it … Ginny, does this have something to do with what happened the
other night?"
His eyes were locked on hers. Her voice failed her. All she could do was
nod.
The torture, the guilt, shone from Harry's eyes and it was so much, that she looked away. She fixed her eyes downward,
staring at the tiny flower pattern of her pillowcase. The
pillowcase of her childhood. It had been with her since she'd been a
little girl and it had gone with her to Hogwarts and had lain atop the
tasseled, velvet bedcovers on her four-poster. It had been with her in
And suddenly, as she stared at the pretty peach flowers, twining with
the little leaves, she found herself staring into the face of strength and
courage. Absurdly, she thought of her Auntie Muriel. This was it. This needed
to end tonight. She was so tired of fighting herself. She owed it to herself to
just stop.
Lifting brimming eyes, she looked into his and let him see everything
that was inside of her.
"I love you, Harry."
Something very quiet happened to his eyes when she said the words. Moments of silence ticked by. Then she repeated herself.
"I love you."
They were both so still. She sat in her bed gazing up at him and he
stood looking back. They remained that way for a long time and at long last,
Ginny found herself in a place that wasn't moving at all. Time was finally
standing still.
"I'm sorry," she said softly after a long time. "I don't
know if it's right to say that. I … I have to say it."
Her last words were barely audible. She wanted to tell him that she
wished she could have said it in a different way… perhaps with dry eyes or when
he wouldn’t be embarrassed to hear it… or when he would be able to say it back.
She also wanted to tell him that she just couldn’t keep the words inside of her
any longer. But it seemed that she just couldn't speak anymore.
"Ginny." His voice was thick and rough as though he, too, was
aching. He swallowed, hard. "I don’t want to hurt you."
Fresh tears came. His words hurt.
They were confirmation that he wasn't there to tell her what she wanted to
hear… though that was something that she already knew in her heart.
"I know," she said and looked up at him with what she hoped
were comforting eyes. "It's okay, Harry."
Something flashed in his eyes and he looked suddenly wild, as though her
words had made him very angry. "No, it's not. Tell me what to do."
His eyes came back to hers and they softened. He took a step forward.
"Tell me how to make this right."
His response caught her by surprise. In all her years of imagining this
moment and the many ways he could respond to her, never had she imagined those
words, said the way he had said them. They caused everything inside her to
collapse.
Her head dropped and she pressed a hand over her eyes as the tears
spilled onto her cheeks. She had thought that she'd already shed all the tears
left inside of her. Her bed sagged then and Ginny knew it was because Harry had
sat down. She looked at him with eyes that were weak and wet … and her breath
shuddered out a sob. Any shame that had been left over from her breakdown
evaporated at once. He was right in front of her, a tower of strength… and not
turning away while she cried.
Her mind filled with images of him pulling her into his arms and holding
her … they would draw back and get lost in each others eyes and—she made a
noise of protest in her throat. Those thoughts weren't going to help her get
through this.
The tears subsided slowly. They sat together in a silence that somehow
felt right … that was so much better than any words he could say. After a
while, Harry reached over to her bedside table and took a tissue from the box.
"Thank you," she said, taking it from him and rubbing the soft
material between her fingers before lifting it to wipe her eyes. She let her
hands fall into her lap and she took a slow, deep breath as her eyes found his
again.
"Tell me what to do," he said again. His eyes implored her.
She lifted the tissue and tried to smile. "You've already done
it."
There was no hint of a smile on his face. "I'm serious,
Ginny."
"I know. And I know you would do anything that I asked. Because you
do care about me. I know that."
"Then how do we… how do we fix this… between us. How do we… make it
so that, so that we can—"
"We can’t be friends, Harry."
She watched him close his eyes, watched him shake his head impatiently.
"Yes, we can. We can, Ginny, it doesn't have to change anything."
"It already has," she said, her eyes filling again. "Do
you know the state I've been in during the past few weeks? All I could think
about was how ashamed I was at what I did—"
"What you did?" he exclaimed. "You did nothing. I
was the one who acted like a … a righteous bastard. I was the one who wouldn't
appreciate that you were there to help—"
"I'm not talking about why I went there, or how much I helped you
with your problems," she said almost irritably. "You know what I'm
talking about. I did exactly what you accused me of doing for all those years,
I…I took advantage of your hurt to soothe my own bleeding heart." She had
a sudden image of herself, sprawled on the stairs of the Burrow, the deep red
blood soaking through her sweater. She squeezed her eyes closed to block the
image. "I wanted to kiss you," she said between clenched teeth,
"And I convinced myself that you would want it, too, when I knew full well
that you were in no state for it, that you wouldn't want–" She broke off.
"You had no idea what I wanted," Harry said in a whispered
voice. "I wasn't exactly … expressing myself the best way, so you couldn’t
possibly tell—"
"Harry, I'm not going to argue with you," she interupted him
wearily. "I should never have given in to my own weaknesses—"
"And I'm not going to argue with you about weaknesses. Or about what you should or shouldn’t have done." His
eyes were hard and intense and looked into hers directly. "Not when there
are a hell of a lot of things I could have done differently that
night."
She looked at him for a long time. There was a creak from the corridor
and they froze and looked at the door. It was a long moment before they
relaxed.
"I suppose it doesn’t even matter anymore," she said finally
in a low whisper. The creak reminded her that they were in the same house as
her sleeping parents. "Why I did it doesn’t matter. It's the fact that I
did. It was like… my first test. I was supposed to be able to resist it all.
Staying with you, thinking that I could be the one to save you, thinking that…
if I just hoped hard enough, I could have what I wanted in the end. It wasn't
supposed to happen the way it did. I was supposed to leave." She shook her
head and cast her eyes back to her pillow. "I wasn't even supposed to be
there in the first place. I just wanted to help you."
She couldn’t control the bitterness in her voice and she didn’t need to
wonder if Harry had heard it when he asked, in a miserable voice, "Is that
really so horrible for you?"
Looking back up at him, she realized that he didn’t understand. After
everything, he still didn’t understand her. "Yes," she whispered and
wished she had the courage to lie to him. "I become…really weak when I'm
around you. I can’t control my feelings… and I feel ashamed of them and of
myself because… because I'm alone in feeling them. I become someone that I
don’t like."
Ginny saw the stricken look on his face and she had to turn away. She
couldn't watch him being hurt by her words. They hurt enough saying them out
loud.
"That's why we can’t be friends," she whispered. "Because
I can’t be your friend and not want more."
Her words lingered between the two of them and because she felt as
though he shouldn't have to respond to that, she whispered a regretful,
"I'm sorry."
He looked up sharply. "You don’t have to apologize to me for
that." He swallowed hard and she watched him struggle with himself.
"You don’t have to apologize to me for anything."
"I do, though. That letter, Harry—"
"That letter," he interrupted her fiercely, "should never
have been sent to you. That letter was me being selfish. I wanted you to come
back, I wanted you to fix what was wrong with me and I didn’t have any thought
as to what it might have cost you." He broke off suddenly and Ginny knew
that these thoughts had been with him since their fight. His eyes turned inward
as he whispered harshly, "I have made a lot of mistakes with you, Ginny. I
should have respected your feelings, I should have—"
"Harry, stop." The words issued
from her were filled with impatience, and he looked a bit taken aback. Ginny
continued crisply, "I'm not going to allow you to use this as another reason
to torture yourself. And I'm not going to sit here and argue about who's to blame. It should be me. I should have been honest
with you from the beginning; I should
have done so many things differently. But I can't take that blame for myself.
As much as I love the self-pity," she said dryly, "I know in my heart
there was nothing I could have done differently." Her eyes welled again.
"But I can apologize to you for not reading your letter because even
though that decision was the best one for me… it had no regard for you and for
that I am sorry."
She looked down at her pillow as she realized that she needed very much
to believe what she was telling him. She needed to let go of the regrets now.
Forgetting about it, forcing herself not to think about it or feel it … it
wasn't going to work. Maybe telling Harry that she loved him was the beginning…
maybe…
"Maybe this is the only way I can let go of you. Owning up to all
of it," she said absentmindedly and looked up at him in question as though
he could tell her if she was right. But Harry didn’t look as though he was in
any position to help her with her realizations.
He looked as though he didn’t know what was happening.
"So … what happens now?" he asked staring into her eyes and
forcing her to see that they weren't okay. They looked tired and they looked
strained. They looked the same as they had three weeks ago. No, his eyes
weren't okay. He wasn't okay. Breathing heavily, he managed, "You just…
leave? You move away because of something that—something that has to do with me
and I just turn the other way and … and not try to help you?"
"I'm not asking for your help—"
"Yeah, well, I never asked for your help and you were always
there!" At her lift of the brow, he shook his head impatiently. "I'm not
counting the bloody letter, forget about the goddamned thing, alright?"
He was frustrated and Ginny didn’t blame him. She was beginning to
finally come to terms with her feelings for him, to finally realize what she
needed to do to move on and he was only just discovering his part in all of it.
"Listen to me," she said softly, and when he shook his head in
irritation, she touched his arm. For a moment they both stared down at the
contact and because her heart began to beat at an unnatural pace, she lifted
her eyes to his. "I know," she whispered, "That it can’t be easy
hearing me tell you about the role you've played in my life. Why do you think
I've refrained from telling you for so long? I never wanted you to worry about
me—"
"That is so—" He
interrupted her fiercely but Ginny squeezed his arm.
"Listen to
me," she said so sternly that he looked at her immediately. She wanted to
be resolved in making him believe that he had nothing to do with it, as
resolved as he was in beating himself up over it. But looking at him… with the
state he was in… made everything inside of her hurt. She wanted to comfort him more than anything
in the world and it terrified her because she knew that she couldn't, not ever
again.
"It mortifies me… no… it used
to mortify me… to think about you knowing the truth. But I need this to end and
telling you is the only thing I haven’t tried, so… I just…." She broke off
and removed her hand from his arm, placing it safely on her pillow. "I
just want it to be over," she said wearily and felt her shoulders
slumping. "I just want to be able to see you and be around you and
not…." She didn’t finish her sentence.
Harry swallowed again and leaned forward. "I'll stay away from you
if you want. I'll do whatever you think, just… you
don’t have to go, do you?"
Her vision blurred. He looked desperate and she knew what caused his
fear. She could hear him that night, that horrible, haunted voice telling her
that he wasn’t supposed to be happy…that he was alone. The tears spilled over
as she watched him now, struggling with trying to make this right when he
couldn’t even make himself right. Her breath came in shaky gasps as she told
him, through her tears,
"Leaving you right now is the hardest thing in the world. Because I
know that you need me. And I know I can be what you need to get through it all…
but at what price to myself? Harry… it's so dangerous, what's between us. I
love you—" She had to stop for a moment. "And you don’t love me… and
we're both not stable enough to be what the other needs. Please promise me that
you'll make yourself better." She couldn’t help it, she grabbed his hand
and held tight. "Please don’t let this be something else that you torture
yourself about. We need to figure out how to live without each other."
His breathing was shallow and his eyes were glassy. Very slowly, his
hand turned underneath hers and Ginny's heart stopped beating as his fingers
twined with hers.
"You should go to
The tears found their way to the surface again. It was the very thing
she had wanted to hear and he had given it to her. "Thank you," she
managed, and because it was the last time she would allow herself to do it, she
leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly. She wasn't
prepared for his arms to draw her close and hold even tighter, but they did…
and they allowed her to relax her grip and just be held.
Moments later, she pulled away because she knew she couldn’t bear it if
he let go first. Their faces were close and they looked into each other's eyes
for a long time.
"We're going to be okay, right?" she asked him in a voice that
was surprisingly clear.
Harry's brow was drawn over his forehead and he searched her eyes,
seeking an answer. "You will."
"We will," she
corrected. "We're survivors, after all." She offered him a shaky
smile.
His eyes were full of sorrow as he looked at her … and then, with what she
knew was an enormous effort, he managed a reluctant smile of his own.
"Yeah."