A/N: Written for Daily Prompts From the Mods on HPFC. The drabbles/oneshots that follow are going to be various pairings and characters, and do not follow a specific timeline.

Disclaimer for all future chapters: I do not own.

Beta-ed by desluzpul.

Edited and reposted on 1/15/11. Beta-ed by ShadedRogue.


June 25: Depth

"Getting rid of a delusion makes us wiser than getting hold of a truth."

-Ludwig Borne

You had always assumed that you would be the one that he'd come back to after a long day of work, the one that would always be by his side, the one that he'd love.

Ginny and Harry.

Harry and Ginny.

It sounds magical, you think.

"It's perfect."

You know who he is. Well, doesn't everybody? And he knows who you are, of course. Ron's little sister. But you wish that you could be something different, something completely different.


When you had stolen back Tom's journal in your first year— Harry's second —you had also taken one of his things, a pair of gloves. You knew that he wouldn't notice. He wouldn't miss them; he could just buy another pair. But you never told him what you had done. You never told anybody, and so you kept them hidden inside your trunk, hidden from the rest of the world. He wasn't supposed to know. Nobody was.

You were shocked and a little surprised when that Hermione girl came barrelling towards him at the end of the year. You felt a little heartbroken when she gave him a hug, and just a little bit more when you saw him hug her back.

When term ended you brought those gloves back to the Burrow with you and had carefully placed them inside your dresser. They're still there.

Although there was a small pang of guilt in the depths of your heart, you ignored it. And that was the first time that you had ever taken something that belonged to him.

School started again, and you could tell that he was looking at you differently because of the whole Chamber of Secrets incident. You sank lower in your seat every time he looked at you, pretending that he wasn't staring at you, but you knew that you loved it. A warm, fluttery feeling arose in your stomach and as much as you wanted to calm it down, you found out that you just couldn't.

It was odd that whenever you turned a corner, you always saw a mass of messy black hair, but when that boy turned around, it was never him. So you flushed and hurried down the hall, clutching your bag closer to your chest.

In second year you weren't able to see him as much, probably because of the restrictions that were placed around the castle ever since Sirius Black's appearance. And as much as you wanted to see him, as hard as you tried, it was nearly impossible, except for those few moments when he was talking to Ron and Hermione in the common room, or hurriedly finishing his meal in the Great Hall. It was in those moments when you wished that you had been born a year earlier, or looked prettier, so that he might notice you.

During the summer you had gotten a book; well, borrowed a book from those two girls that were in the year above you, Lavender and Parvati. You learned that you could change your hair and appearance with some little charms and spells, and you begged for Mum to help you. You wouldn't ask any of your brothers for help; they would only taunt you, and you sure weren't going to ask Hermione. She would just laugh at you.

Mum had agreed, but she made you promise that this would be the only time that she would. You had readily agreed and reminded yourself to watch how she did it so you could try it yourself when you got back to Hogwarts.

It was announced in the beginning of term that there would be a TriWizard Tournament, and you hoped that Harry would enter. You knew that he would win, of course. He had defeated the Dark Lord, he could do anything.

You admitted to yourself after the First Task had ended that you were a little bit scared for Harry. Just a little bit. The Hungarian Horntail was intimidating, but you put your faith in him, just like every other girl was doing.

When the Yule Ball was announced, you were oh-so-excited. You were practically jumping in your seat, and your heart was thumping abnormally fast. You just hoped that the glamour tips and tricks in that little book would be put to use.

Your heart was nearly broken a second time when he barely looked at you. He had waited, waited until nearly every single girl was gone, and then he had picked Parvati. Parvati, of all people! If she had used the tricks and they had worked for her, how come they weren't working for you?

You had waited with him, waited for him, so that he might just choose you. That had become the thing that you regretted the most. Dean Thomas, the other handsome Gryffindor boy was also taken, and so was Seamus. (You never really did like the boys in your year). You had wanted to go so bad, so you had accepted Neville's request with a sigh.

But, the look he gave Hermione when she came down the stairs was so deep, so loving, that you just wanted to run over to her and pull her pretty hair out of its bun. Instead, you controlled yourself and kept quiet. Harry would just think of you as that crazy Weasley girl.

When the ball had ended, Hermione had burst into tears and fled away from Ron and Harry, and you felt a little bit triumphant inside. Feeling a little bit courageous, you had walked up to him and you were about to open your mouth to talk, but he fled too.

Hermione sank onto the steps of the stairs, with tears trickling down her face, and maybe, just maybe, you had felt a little bit happy.

Your fourth year was eventful, for both you and Harry. You started seeing this nice boy called Michael Corner. You liked him, in fact, you liked him a lot, but you didn't love him like the way you loved Harry. But you carried on, and so you let him kiss you. After a while, you admitted to yourself that this relationship wasn't right, what you were doing wasn't right. But it wasn't love; it was lust, right?


So maybe you're the one who doesn't understand the depth of what love—what a relationship—really is. Maybe you're the one who's delusional.