Author: Emmie
Title: Make Believe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Ginny/Luna
Rating: PG
Continuity: Meh.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue, plzthx.

Summary: One night with Harry may ruin the best thing in Ginny's life.

A bottle of her perfume stands on the dresser. Some Muggle stuff, golden and smelling of sweet nectar. She'd scooped up her things quickly, an armload of clothing, scattered toiletries, all the stuff that's gathered over the past few months. A similar mess in her room. We can live in each other's dorms now. Or...we could.

I curl up in one corner of my bed. Classes will be starting soon, but I don't want to go out. A hundred angry eyes burning into me. The Ravenclaws are out for blood. I can't blame them. In fact, I'm almost proud of them. A House that never accepted her now rallies behind her. A House full of friends to share in her pain. The Hufflepuffs too glare at me in the halls. Of course, the whole House is a bit of an oddball; she has always fit in well there. Even my own Housemates seem to be silently against me; strangely enough I don't really mind. They leave me alone.

Alone. In my room. Surrounded by memories of her.

The bottle catches my eye again. I stretch one hand out from my nest of blankets and pain, pick it up. Rolling it between fingers colder than the glass, I watch the way it catches the light. It reminds me of her hair.

I haven't spoken to her for two days. Tuesday. I was in the common room, talking to Hermione. Something I'd been doing a lot since it happened, trying to make sense of things. Trying to figure out what's wrong with me. I'd never been so confused. I'm still confused. Always before, even when things were hard, they have always been simple. I have always known who I am, who I am going to be.

Luna shook all that. I never wanted to be gay. Never planned this, never even saw it coming. Never meant to love her so damn much. But in the end it didn't matter. She was just there, waiting for me to work it out, to accept myself and accept her love. Oh, and I did.

And then this thing, this thing I've done. With Harry. I hate myself for it, but now I understand it. Too late, too bad. It was one night. One night, late, along in front of the common room fire. We talked, and somehow, even before, I could tell. It was as though, after all the years I'd wanted him, all my lust, my fantasies, my obsession...now that he saw this bond between me and Luna, now that he couldn't have me, he finally wanted me back. We talked, and then we kissed, and then...then...

The bottle slips through my fingers, rolls across the bed, drops to the floor and shatters.

To blame him for everything would be easy. To say he saw this shining, beautiful thing we had and knowingly destroyed it. But it was me, it was always me. I believe that he truly felt something that night. Something pure and real. Something that, yes, perhaps it took my attachment for him to realize. But people cannot help who they love, and when. I know that now. Now that I am alone, with the scent of her drifting in the air.

When she entered the common room that day - we knew all the passwords to each others' common rooms by now, it was as though each was an honorary member of the other's House - I could tell something was wrong. Hers was not a face made for seriousness but for dreamy looks that I could watch for hours, she lost in thought, unaware of how devastatingly beautiful she was, and I lost in her. For shy half-smiles that melted me into a puddle of Gryffindor goo. For laughter that made my heart swell and my eyes tear up just to be near this shining creature. But, oh, she was serious then, so much so she barely looked like her. She entered the room, and I looked up, immediately sensing her presence. My stomach dropped and I knew she knew.

She met my eyes. In silent acquiescence to her silent accusal, I stood and led the way to my dormitory. She took a seat on my bed, perched, ready for flight, where always before she had lounged as if it were her own room.

And it was. Everything I owned, everything I was, belonged to her.

I stood, somehow still feeling so small before her. We stared at each other, not speaking. Expectant; she of explanation, I of accusation. Her pale eyes burned into mine, not blinking.

"How did you know?" It popped out of my mouth while my brain was still buzzing blankly. The instant I realized what I'd said I knew too that it was the worst possible way to begin.

She gave a derisive laugh; short hard sound I'd never thought could come from her. "Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not." My eyes dropped to the carpet, unable to meet her gaze. Several more moments of hard silence followed, in which I wanted to glance up, but didn't dare. And then...

"Why?"

What could I say? Anything would sound like excuses, and really, I guess, that's all it would be. "I don't know."

She started piling her things in her schoolbag, then, not looking at me. Words fell from my mouth, and in my head I knew that I sounded stupid and desperate and pathetic, but I didn't care. "Luna, please," my voice small and high, "please, stop. Give me another chance. Let me fix this. Please, tell me what I can do."

She stopped moving and met my eyes at last. For a moment she didn't speak, and then, quietly, perfectly calm, she said, "Nothing." She finished collecting her things in silence as I stared helplessly.

As she turned to go, I couldn't help but try once more. "Isn't there any way…"

The sadness in her eyes was heartbreaking, but the resignation was somehow worse. "No, I don't think there is."

"I love you," I said. The door clicked shut, my only answer. Alone.

I shouldn't feel like this. I should get up. Get on with my life. I suppose I'll have to, eventually. Just let me lie here a little longer, with the smell of her in the air, and pretend.