A/N: This is going to start out slow. This first chapter is meant to set some ground for the good stuff, so stick with me! We'll be heading into Drarry soon enough! I just want it to feel more authentic for when we do get there. For those of you who are concerned there will too much Harry/Ginny, trust me, I don't care for the pairing and I'll be changing it up soon. I'll be updating any warnings as I go along. Any feedback is appreciated!
-ooo-
Harry couldn't say exactly what had gone wrong. They were so good, Ginny and him. They laughed, they touched, they stole so many kisses in dark corridors, he had lost count. He could remember every strand of red hair and every twinkle in her eye. And although he thought of these things fondly, the love was gone. He still loved her as a friend and a confidante, but just not…like that. The war was harder on her than he could have ever imagined. He remembered holding her close at Fred's funeral and something was missing from her then that just never came back. Part of her light was gone, snuffed out and plunged into darkness. He hated to think about it, but part of him felt like she blamed him. It didn't sound like the Ginny he knew, and he most certainly hoped it couldn't be true, but the guilt was overwhelming and it consumed his better judgement from time to time.
And then there was his own damaged soul. Maybe when all was said and done, something died in him too, and not just the part of Voldemort he was so glad to be rid of. No, it was something else. There was an indescribable pain that lingered in his chest, hovering over his heart like his own personal stormcloud. He still loved the people around him, but he found it hard to meet their eyes and in turn was left with a loneliness he couldn't avoid. The war had changed him, and it changed Ginny. Deep down, they both knew what they had died with the war and those little pieces of themselves. Harry wasn't sure he could ever love like that again.
-ooo-
"Harry, when are you going to tell people? They're starting to suspect something is up."
Harry looked up from his book and sighed.
"Let them talk. It's none of their damn business."
Hermione sighed and then gave Harry a curt nod. "Right. Of course. It's between you two."
There was a moment of silence between the two friends, and Hermione eyed him cautiously. "You've been so quiet lately," she started, pausing for a brief moment to evaluate Harry's reaction. Harry simply looked at her again, face blank. Hermione continued, "do you miss her?"
Harry thought about the question for a second or two. He wasn't sure how to answer. Of course he missed her. He always thought they'd grow old together and marry, maybe have children. He remembered being able to picture it all so clearly in his mind. Now it all just felt so far away. There was not a doubt he missed her, but he wasn't so sure if he missed her or just the idea of her.
Harry sighed. "I don't know Hermione. I don't even know what happened yet."
"Are you okay?"
Hermione may be slightly intrusive, Harry thought, but her genuine concern was always something he could appreciate in the long run.
"Honestly, Hermione...No, I'm not okay. But I will be."
-ooo-
It was another sleepless night. He had been having a lot of those lately. Nights where he tossed and turned, blinked at the canopy, and counted sheep until he was nothing short of irritated. And then every night, when he was thoroughly maddened and exhausted, his mind would give in and he would see her face. It smiled at him, and he could swear he could still smell her hair as it blew in the breeze. It was a hot summer day and they had been dancing just outside the Burrow. It was silly dancing, and he recalled her laughing at him, but he didn't care. He could have listened to her laugh for days, even at his own expense.
Harry turned over in bed yet again, and tonight he shed a tear. When did his life get so complicated? When did his demons win? Did Ginny's demons win too?
-ooo-
"Harry! Wake up, mate!"
A pillow crashed into the side of his face and he groaned, reaching a lazy arm out to protect himself, far too late.
"C'mon, you slept in! Slytherin's playing Ravenclaw today and Cho promised us a good Malfoy beatdown. Get your arse up!"
Harry smiled as he sat up. He had almost forgot. It was the first Quidditch match of the year and they were indeed promised a wonderful match. It would be good for Harry to scope out his opponents and he couldn't deny that seeing Malfoy get absolutely destroyed on the pitch was a definite perk. They assumed Malfoy wouldn't have had much time after the war to brush up on his skills, and a few measly practices was surely not enough. The three houses decided to completely expose that. Ravenclaw just so happened to get the first honor.
Harry dressed quickly and threw on his glasses, hastily following Ron out of the dormitory and to the pitch.
-ooo-
The rain was pouring down onto the pitch and the risers. Harry's clothes clung to his skin and there was a mild shiver travelling through his body. He could already picture the hot cocoa for later.
The rain wasn't even the worst part of the match, not by a longshot. Harry sort of enjoyed the rain. What he did not enjoy was the masterful skills Malfoy seemed to retain. He was flawless and it grated at Harry. He could see Cho trying her hardest to knock him off kilter, but he held strong. He looked healthy and solid, nothing like Harry remembered. A childish voice in his head mocked him. You save the wizarding world and somehow Malfoy comes out more attractive than you.
Ravenclaw was ahead by 50 points and the crowd was a sea of blue, loud and rowdy. Their cheering was deafening, but welcomed. He missed Quidditch. He missed the excitement, he missed the wind in his face while he zoomed around the pitch in the middle of a tight match, his heart pounding in his chest while his eyes frantically scanned for their win.
Suddenly, Cho picked up speed and got low to her broom as she headed in a dead straight line inclining upwards. She had found it. Somehow, through the rain and fog, she had found the snitch. Harry cheered louder than he had the whole match, and the sea of blue joined him. The tension in the crowd was thicker than the fog around them as they all held their breath. Draco lagged slightly behind Cho, possibly not even aware she had spotted it. Harry hoped so anyway. But of course, like many things Harry hoped for, he was let down. Draco picked up speed too, his broom inclining behind hers, and boy, was he ever gaining speed. Harry cursed under his breath. Cho peered over her shoulder and threw her focus back forward, her arm reaching out to a snitch Harry couldn't see. Draco was right next to her now, his own arm reaching out beside hers. Both their fists closed at the same time and their brooms slowed to a hover, and the stands were quiet for a moment while they waited.
And then Draco's hand raised into the air in triumph.
No.
The small pond of green erupted in loud whistles and hoots while Draco circled the pitch with his win. As he passed by the gryffindor stand, Harry could have sworn he saw Draco catch his eyes, and wink at him with a smug smile.
Harry wanted to shove that snitch so far down Malfoy's throat, he'd be shitting gold for weeks.
Ron grabbed his arm. "Let's get out of here. I hate watching those smug bastards celebrate."
Harry couldn't have thought of a better idea himself.