Green Grass and Teddy-Bears
She was the only person who called him "Teddy". When she whispered it, it sounded like magic. When she gasped it, it sounded like God. When she screamed it, it sounded like fire. She had a power over him, a power that manifested itself in the way she spoke his name. It was never Theodore, though that was how he introduced himself to her. It was s never Nott, though that was what the others called him. It was never Ted, though that might have been her own repulsion for the name that prevented her from forming such a horrid nickname. Ginny doesn't call him anything. When she must use his name, she says it quickly, in a rushed sort of way, as if she can't stand the thought of speaking it aloud. Sometimes Theodore hates her for it, but most of the time, he hates himself for creating it.
Blaise hates Ginny, hates the way Theodore replaced Daphne with her, but Theodore suspects that he hates his feels for her brother more. Tracey loves Ginny, loves to laugh with her, loves to mock her and loves to be with her. Pansy doesn't really hate Ginny, but she loves to disagree with Tracey, and does so at every turn. Draco thinks that it's good that he gets over Daphne, but doesn't speak such thoughts out loud. Even Crabbe and Goyle have opinions on it, though they voice them.
Daphne… Theo can't help but compare her to Daphne. Daphne, who was always so frosty manner, was as removed and selfless as Ginny is hot, and involved. He couldn't stop thinking a bout her. Daphne, who had given up her riches and dignity to protect her friends, would have hated Ginny. Daphne had kept her emotions under a tight mask, and none but her closest friends could read her. With Ginny, Theo could feel her emotions from across the hall, read them like a child's book and see them from a mile away. So different in their similarities, so complete in their imperfection, that Theodore couldn't help but love them both.
He suspects that Ginny knows this. Ginny knows what it's like to lose ones soul mate; Ginny understands the bond that was forged, and respects it enough not to intrude. He knows, however, that for all her show of strength and indifference, it is slowly killing her. He reads it in her eyes, the way she doesn't ask certain questions, or doesn't do certain things. He doesn't know how she knows, though he suspects that Tracey helped, but she knows not to call him Teddy. Most of the time, she refrains from calling him anything, as if the knowledge that the one special name he had was taken from her, was used up by a woman long dead and buried, but continued to hold onto his soul, and his heart.
Ginny can live with not having his soul, she muses, as she stares at his sleeping form. At first, his body was enough, but as the weeks turned into months, turned into a year, she can't help but want more. She's afraid of what asking would mean, and so she never voices her questions. What she fears more than the question is the answer, for she already knows what it is. Nobody can ever replace Daphne, this is certain. She understands it, but sometimes that makes it hurt even worse.
The petite red head sits up, and moves to dress herself. As she tiptoes out of his flat, she promises herself that this time, she will leave him; that i>this /i> time, things will change.
She can understand that he will never be hers, but that doesn't stop the pain.