Rebound

By Chinesemoon

In the midst of war, Ginny Weasley had developed a habit. She felt God awful for it and always wished herself in another time, another place. Yet those days of war were dark and deadly and she needed the secret meetings to sustain her. They kept her going; he kept her going.

After a bloody battle-ground, it was all the same for her. She slipped away, so blissfully unnoticed by anyone around her. She slipped away to their secret place and they were all lips and passion. Her heart didn't melt when she ran her fingers through his chocolate brown hair. She got that same high she always got from his touch and his kisses. But, always a but. She didn't love him.

One, two, three, they were in the dark so carelessly fumbling with each other's clothing. Four, five, six, so easily had he trapped her into the single breath track she found herself constantly falling into. Ginny knew she was lying to herself. This wasn't what she wanted; she couldn't imagine a life with him.

"Ginny," he said softly. "Why are you doing this?"

"Neville," she breathed softly. She was at a loss. She wasn't a bad person… or was she? Maybe she was, come to think of it. They both changed a lot since Hogwarts closed down three years before. Now they toiled in a love affair she wished to have with another man.

"I don't love you Neville," Ginny said. She looked away. He looked away. Silence, then—

"I knew you didn't," Neville said, leaning against a wall in the dark. "You never did. If I die tomorrow –"

"You won't die, Neville," Ginny said firmly. Something about his statement bothered her.

"Why not?" Neville said. His voice was not angry. It was calm. "It's just as well. Voldemort already destroyed my life. It won't get worse."

How much he had changed since she first met him. He was no longer the scared little boy he used to be. His face was older, more mature. She wouldn't deny he was attractive. She saw how other women looked at him, and she wanted to scratch their eyes out. Why? She had no claim on him. Now she so coldly rejected him.

Ginny turned back to him. Her red hair glinted in the moonlight from the window of her flat. She took him in her arms and held him close.

She was chasing a dream. Harry didn't love her. If he had in the past, he showed no inclination that he did anymore. He didn't want her hurt. A part of her knew it. Neville was as faithful a lover as anyone could have. Why did she close her eyes and wish for another man?

"Kiss me again," she whispered. He did. He always did. He wanted her, he loved her. She knew it. She wanted to love him back, her heart just wouldn't listen.

"Why are you beautiful?" Neville asked, scooting her up in his lap. "You're beautiful and I love you."

She closed her eyes, holding locks of his hair. He smelled like coconut and not broomstick polish. He stared at her with hazel eyes, not clear green ones. His brown hair was smooth to her touch, not messy and crazy. So many differences, and yet one remaining truth: his love, not his abandonment.

Later, they lay together. Ginny stared up at the ceiling, wrapped in his arms. He kissed her ear.

"Why did this war happen?" Neville asked sadly.

"Sometimes things happen," Ginny said, still staring straight ahead. "You just can't control them. They aren't what we expect or want or long for. It's just not what we want."

He was silent for a moment.

"Maybe the things we want are impossible," he finally said. "It's… second best right now."

She did not reply. She knew he wasn't speaking of the war.

"Second best will never be good enough for you," he said sadly. He turned away in the bed and fell silent.

Ginny shivered. A tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to sleep.

Fin