Those Three Words
Part II
Disclaimer: So there it is – you ask for a sequel, you get the sequel! I decided there so much more to make out of the topic…but read yourself!
Characters and places are J.K.R's, she's marvelous, great, maybe even divine ;-)
"Er…thank you…", said Ginny, retreating several steps. She was puzzled, utterly bamboozled by this sudden outburst of emotion from Harry, who normally was the one to be lost for words. She couldn't blame him for looking a little taken aback, though. He even seemed disappointed, which told Ginny he had been strongly considering that she would say something in reply – something positive, of course. Seeing his expression during this moment made her wish to say something so badly and yet, she couldn't, simply wasn't capable of doing so. She faced the floor instead and from the corner of the eye watched Harry clutching the photograph they had just been studying. Still neither of them spoke.
"Well…I; erm – I'll have to get the post from downstairs…could easily be my exam results", Ginny murmured, already heading for the door. She had to get out of here. The silence had reached such an awkward climax that she was surprised not to have frozen immediately. Harry did not follow, which, if she was honest, was nothing to wonder about after her not very well-phrased answer. Still lost in thought, hurrying downstairs, she bumped into someone and toppled over. Clutching the robes of the person she just ran into, Ginny fell backside first onto the hard and not very comfortable stairs. The victim, whom she now recognized as her brother dropped straight after her, collapsing upon his sister with howls of pain and utter distress.
"OUCH! What the ruddy hell was that about, honey?", asked George, grinning from ear to ear, curled upon Ginny's chest.
"Accident", she explained gruffly, trying to hoist herself up even with her brother's weight resting on her. It was annoying, irritating, that George could still find something funny about the situation, judging by the shrewd grin on his face.
"Accident, was it", said George, heaving his body up under heavy breathing and masculine grunts that made Ginny want to thump him.
"Accident, when you pulled your brother into your arms?"
Still smirking at Ginny, he held out his hand to her to help her get up. With an excruciating pain in her back, she seized George's hand.
"Ginny, let's face it", he added, while Ginny was still rubbing her painful backside, "this can never work. We're siblings! Just think of Mum and Dad – they'd have a heart attack! You'd really hurt Harry, needless to say…Harry – your boyfriend, remember? I thought that was something steady, at least."
"So did I, fuckin' hell!"
Shocked about herself, Ginny hurried towards the door to get out of this madhouse. She had not expected to loose her temper, but the mention of Harry, whom she had left alone upstairs had depressed her. She was almost angry with herself. Her hand had already reached the doorknob, when George placed a hand upon her shoulder.
"Gin-"
"Don't you ever shut up??!", she cried, tears cascading down her cheeks relentlessly.
"It's not funny, you blistering idiot! You don't give a shit about how I feel, but still for Georgie All is funny Weasley it's all a big joke!"
With those words she strode off towards the door, leaving George flustered.
Thank you?? Thank you??? What a fucked-up crap! He had just spat his bloody insides upon Ginny's feet and what did she do?? She thanked him for it, oh how very polite of her! It was so humiliating, unnecessarily gruesome to hear this answer from the girl he loved. Not to mention, he did still love her and that, it occurred to him, was a major problem – he felt Ginny could do or say whatever she wanted, it wouldn't change his feelings a wretched bit. Bloody hell!!
Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch inside their neatly arranged living room, starring at the pictures of their wedding when Ginny apparated within their midst. She hadn't done it that properly and so she toppled over, smashing a pretty vase her mother had sent them as a wedding present (she knew that Ron hated it so it wouldn't all be such a big problem, Ginny thought). Both of them were so busy with studying the photographs that they did not immediately recognize their visitor. Hermione was wearing a soppy expression on her face which made Ginny shudder. Is that really the person who has been my best friend since I was twelve?, she asked herself. She thought that whatever her future held for her, she would definitely not end up like this: sitting on a couch in a prudish living room, starring at photos with an expression like a kid under the Christmas tree. She was just beginning to feel a little awkward, when Hermione finally looked up.
"Oh, Ginny, darling, hi! Have you seen our photographs? They're so pretty, come on, ha-" "What the hell's wrong with me, may I ask?", Ginny suddenly shouted. "Thank you?? Why in the name of Merlin's saggy left did I say that?"
Ginny now stood there, surprised about her own outburst, with wide eyes and ruined make-up. Ron, though, looked somewhat startled, almost admiring until Hermione finally spoke. "Ginny, for heaven's sake! What happened? Are you allright?"
Still breathing hard and with a few sobs, she told them what had just happened inside her room. Ron burst out with laughter, turning red in the face.
"Ronald!"
Hermione digged him in the ribs and Ron stopped at once, for he knew he was in utter danger when his wife called him Ronald. Ginny, still sobbing heavily, managed to smile a little and quickly stepped in front of the shattered remains of their vase. They had plenty of time to repair it later.
"Well it was very…er…polite of you, wasn't it", Ron chuckled, grinning broadly.
"Ronald, I don't think these are situations for being exeptionally polite", Hermione said patiently. "Ginny, why don't you sit down and have some tea with us?"
"I'll make some", Ron said eagerly and hurried into the kitchen, obviously glad of an exuse to escape the situation.
"So, why didn't you say what you really feel ?", asked Hermione, using Rons momentary absence as an oppurtunity to talk privately.
"Dunno", Ginny replied,"'guess I was scared."
Hermione placed a hand around her shoulder, looking at her with wide, kind eyes.
"But what scared you, sweetie?"
Harry had been starring at the walls for nearly all the long. He had forgotten, lost track, of how long exactly he had been lying here, starring without seeing anything precise. Grimmauld Place's walls were not something pretty to look at, though. They were covered in dust all over, stains and ugly holes hiding the formerly beatiful ornaments on them. Harry was just wondering whether Kreacher might come home soon enough to cook dinner for him, when there was a loud crack in the kitchen. A second later he heard Kreacher's bullfrog voice saying:" Master Harry must be in the living room, Miss. Follow me." And in he came, leading Ginny towards the couch where Harry was now sitting. For a moment, the silence only was disturbed by Kreacher's shuffling footsteps, now busy in the kitchen. Ginny starred at him with round eyes, obviously thinking hard what to say.
"I…"
He grunted, but when he saw her expression his heart was thumping so hard it almost hurt. "I…..I…think I love you too."