Summary: When she finds a box- containing Lilly Potter's ring- hidden in his sock drawer one morning, Ginny's doubts about her relationship with Harry blossom into action. Oneshot, Ginny and Harry
Author Says: This is just my little bit of rebellion against Ginny/Harry- I feel their relationship did not have a strong base, and would likely fall apart at some point in the future. But who knows- Maybe they get back together in the end! Of course, all characters belong to the wonderful Ms. Rowling, I own nothing but the highest regards for said Ms. Rowling, you know the deal. This is my first published story, so I would really appreciate any input or constructive criticism! ~Thanks, Jones!
Ginny sat perched on one of the high wooden stools, staring somberly at the envelope addressed "To Harry" in her scribbled handwriting. Some Gryffindor you are, she reprimanded herself. Stop being a coward. He'll be home any minute, just stay. But she licked the envelope, turned it over, and silently pressed her lips to his name. He deserves better than this, why can't I have the courage to tell him myself?, she thought disgustedly. She absentmindedly picked up one of the two solitary figurines on the counter-top, a set of lumpy garden gnomes that served as salt-and-pepper shakers.
The first thing she and Harry had bought for their little flat- She remembered she had laughed for so long at the ugly little things, that Harry had insisted they purchase them, if only for the entertainment value. The shopkeeper had given them funny looks when Harry began suggesting various amusing background stories for the little gnomes; they'd set out laughing into a sun-soaked Diagon Alley to get a proper start on their shopping, his arm around her shoulder as he described how Pepper had once been a highly respected member of the Wizengamot before running afoul of a hag with a nasty temper.
The echo of a smile played across Ginny's mouth as she remembered how happy they'd been, but it faded slowly, the last few flickers of light before the candle wick sinks into the glassy pool of its own melted wax. She set the salt shaker back upon the counter, and placed the envelope with his name and her kiss between the cheerily smiling gnomes.
She crossed the kitchen and picked up her brown overcoat from the coat-rack, pulling it on quietly. She slipped her wand into a pocket, and took one long, last look at the kitchen and silent, surrounding flat. Time to go, she reminded herself with a sigh of regret.
Minutes later, the silence was broken- A faint pop, the rustling of a key being jammed stubbornly through a lock, and a curse of "Merlin's beard, it's stuck again!" But there was no one around to hear it by then. A tall man entered the small apartment, shaking droplets of rain off his untidy mop of hair and leaning the collapsed umbrella against the coat stand in the kitchen.
"We've really got to get that lock fixed, Gin," Harry called out. "Another minute in that downpour and I would have melted!" He laughed lightly, setting his briefcase down before he pulled off his coat. "It's my turn to cook tonight, right?," he asked as he opened the pantry and peered into its overstocked depths.
"Hermione said you missed your lunch date- Wanted to know if you could reschedule for Thursday, told her I'd ask you. Anyways, I was thinking pasta- That okay with you?" No opinion on the possibility of pasta, no explanation for the missed lunch date. "Ginny?" No answer at all.
"Ginny?"
He walked cautiously to their bedroom and opened the door slowly. Her books were gone from the shelf, and her closet stood open and empty. The top drawer of the dresser was opened slightly, and a basket of half-folded socks sat at the dresser's foot. On top of the large wooden fixture, her jewelry box was missing, replaced with a small, velvet covered ringbox and the particularly ugly pair of woolen socks he had hidden it behind just a few short nights ago, after he had removed the ring from his Gringott's vault.
For a moment, he could only stare as grief washed through him, as though he were nothing more than a crumbling sandcastle caught in a strong tide. He picked up the box, numbly carrying it with him to the kitchen and slipping it into his jeans pocket. He had barely registered the absence of her brown coat- the one that brought out the chocolate color of her eyes so well- from the coat rack in the corner before he noticed the letter on the counter-top.
He gingerly slipped it out from between the laughing, misshapen gnome figurines they'd bought together ages ago, back when laughing had been easier. "To Harry," was scrawled on the front. He opened it silently and began to read; by the time he reached the ending, "With my sincere apologies, best wishes, and all my love- Ginny", there were nearly as many tear-stains on his face as there were smudged across the ink.
We could have fixed this, Harry told himself. Maybe... If one of us had said something, done something, sooner, we might have been able to fix this. But the tears continued silently as he raised the parchment to his lips, leaving a salty stain over her signature, and her love.
He sank uneasily onto the stool, watched by the happy pair of ornaments, and as he felt the ringbox dig uncomfortably in his hip, he could not help but give a deep sigh- Not of regret, but of relief.