Love Is Overrated

Disclaimer: I own nothing with the exception of this plot. Characters and the general wizarding world belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1 Heart's A Mess

"Harry?" I whisper, cracking the door open slightly. "Harry, it's me."

There's no answer, except the howling of the wind against the burrow's tattered walls. A clock chimes as it strokes 3 AM. The air is cool and I inhale the rich scent of old cloth and books. Light walls appear ghostly in the night, covered randomly with portraits and pictures of genuine contentment. Cracks in the wooden floor are black with dust and dirt. It creaks in elevated moans, but doesn't scare me. The burrow is at rest and I'm disturbing the night.

The bedroom I peer into is completely dark, but I know he has to be in there. Unsatisfied, I stomp my foot.

An elaborate design of bright flowers shower my aqua-colored robe. Tugging it tighter around my waist, I shudder in the dark hallway before whispering loudly, "Harry!"

A resounding snore answers me. I roll my eyes and sigh. Good lord! Is he deaf?

Putting my back to the wall, I slide down, resting my head on my knees. I contemplate my other options again. Fred and George? Definitely not! They'd tease me and make the situation worse. Ron? Sleeps like a log. Impossible to wake. Just like Harry, apparently. Mum? She'd kill me. Bill is snuggled up with Fleur. And well… Percy's room is empty these days.

I knew I was being ridiculous, but the thing could fly! Giving up, I decide it's going to be a long night on the couch. I drag my feet down the hallway and stomp down the stairs. Besides, if I can't sleep, nobody should be able to.

As I reach the bottom, I notice light flickering on the wall. It's toasty warm thanks to the fire that's raging in the front room. That's odd. I thought everybody was asleep.

"Dad?" I whisper, in case he's asleep in the recliner. It's old and broken and Lord knows Mum complains about the ratty thing enough, but Dad's determined to keep it. The thought makes me smile to myself.

I inch closer and Harry's head pops into view, "Hey, Gin. It's just me. Why are you up?"

Blushing is one of the downsides to being a redhead, and if ever there were a redhead, it's me. My hair shines like fire, elaborating the freckles that shower my nose and cheeks. I despise both my red hair and my pale freckled skin. Only after many years of using spells to erase them did I relinquish the idea that it was even remotely possible.

"Harry!" I exclaim, surprised, trying to cover my reddening cheeks. "I was actually just trying to wake you. I thought you were upstairs in Ron's room."

"Eck! Have you heard your brother snore?"

I laugh and sit down on the sofa to his right. "Just did, actually."

Harry's eyebrows come together, "Oh yeah, what did you need me for?"

Remembering my predicament, I close my robe more tightly around me and shiver. "There's a bug in my room and I think it flew onto my bed."

Harry crosses his arms, "You were waking me up because there's a bug in your room?"

I stand up, annoyed that Harry is undermining the seriousness of the situation. "It's as big as my head! A roach, Harry! I can't sleep while there's a roach in my bed."

Laughter echoes through the room. I narrow my eyes.

"You alright, there, Gin?"

"Why?" I spit out.

"Well, you're turning red," he laughs harder.

I give him the best you're-an-arse glare I can muster. "I could say the same to you. Ever planning on coming up for air?"

"Oh, come now…" Harry grins. "Don't be angry."

I love Harry's smile. It makes my knees tremble. Unable to stop it, the corners of my lips begin to lift. "You know I couldn't ever really be mad at you."

Harry has a way of making everybody around him feel good. My family's loved him even before they met him. Our parents were friends before they- well, passed away.

As if he knows what I'm thinking, I notice Harry's eyes changing. Changing to something I've never seen before. Darker and even more beautiful than before. I can't pull myself away from those luminous green orbs. I feel the tension in the air growing as we stare at one another.

I've wanted him so badly, for so long. Could it finally be my time? My blood is shrieking with excitement and my heart is pounding in my chest with a vigor that almost hurts. I inwardly beg him to kiss me. I feel my body leaning forward. Is he moving, too?

Harry clears his throat and I'm jolted from my trance.

It's a betrayal. I feel like Harry threw me off the mountain because there wasn't enough room at the top for both of us. Maybe it was just me. But maybe it wasn't?

"Harry?" I whisper.

That smile I love is gone now. "Yeah?"

"I want to tell you something I've been thinking a lot about lately." I maintain eye contact, wanting back on the peak. With him.

Running a hand through his dark hair, Harry smiles at me, "Sure. You can tell me anything, Gin." He glances back up at me, but before I can utter a syllable, he dips his head and looks very seriously at me, "You're like a sister to me."

Ouch.

I reposition myself so that I'm sitting on my knees, taller than him. The extra height makes me feel stronger.

"I don't want to be like a sister to you, Harry." I'm proud how clearly I say it, but I still worry I sound like a fool.

I'm acutely aware that Harry's skin is developing a light sheen of sweat. His adams apple moves in his throat as he takes a deep gulp. I don't know what it is about that, but I suddenly feel flushed all over.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

This is it. I was climbing to the top whether he offered a hand or not. I lift my head and square my shoulders. "I think I love you, Harry Potter."

As if in pain, Harry's face scrunches up, "No! No, Ginny. Don't say that."

I watch him stand up and pace across the room. My voice is trapped low in my belly. I struggle to suck in air.

"But I have to say it! It has to be said!" He turns into a blur as my eyes begin to water. I loathe crying in front of people, so I quickly wipe my moist eyes with the back of my hands.

Turning to me, Harry looks at me as if he has to tell me I'm dying. I feel like I might be.

"Ginny, you're great. You really are, but you don't even know what you're saying. You don't love me. You're too young to even know what love is!"

"I do! I do love you!" I can't hold it back any longer. My cheeks are wet and warm. I try to turn away, my nose threatening to drip if I don't give myself away and sniffle.

I contemplate running, but Harry is down on his knees before me. My heart aches as he wipes away my tears with his thumbs.

"Hey," he whispers. "It's okay. I know you think your heart's breaking, but it's not, Gin. It's just a little bruised. And it'll heal before you know it. I don't want to hurt you."

Wrapping his arms around me, Harry holds my stiff body. We remain like this until my face is dry and sticky. My muscles give way and I surrender to his arms. I don't really find comfort in his arms, but I'm too weak to care.

I can't stand it anymore. I shrug out of his embrace, "Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

He thinks I'm angry. I can tell he's worried, but I can't bring myself to reassure him. I know in a moment he'll try to fix this. I also know it can never be fixed.

"Hey, don't even worry about it." Standing up, Harry gestures for me to follow, "C'mon. Let's go get that monster in your room."

"Bug," I whisper.

I didn't get any sleep. I feel chained by disappointment and my heart- well, it's a bloody mess. Last night it was a rollercoaster soaring downhill. Today it's at a standstill. Stuck in one place, unable to move forward. I keep wondering if there's a spell that can fix a malfunctioning heart. If not a spell, perhaps a medication? Muggles have an array of mind-altering drugs.

In all honesty, Harry was perfectly nice. I know I shouldn't be angry, but my pride is wounded.

The whistle of the train shakes me from my thoughts.

"Mum, you have to let go now. I have to get on the train." I look around, clasped tightly to my mother, trying to avoid the stares of classmates finding the display humorous.

Using my eyes to the best of my ability, I begin pleading with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil to save me. They only wave, smiling and blowing pretend kisses my way. Traitors!

Tears dripping from her chin, Mum sniffs and gives me one last good squeeze before having to let go again, "I just can't believe that you're in your sixth year now. I'll miss you so much this year. My little girl…"

I scowl, "I'm not a little girl anymore!" Why does everybody keep saying that!

Steadying myself, I give kiss my mother on the cheek. "I'm going to go now. I love you." I make a quick departure, Mum yelling her goodbyes behind me. I can see her without even looking… one hand placed warmly over her heart while the other holds a tissue to her nose. She means well.

I trudge my way toward the train, mortified and outraged with the world.

Where can I sit, really? Last year I sat with Lavendar and Parvati, but they can read me like an open book. No way would I spend the entire afternoon describing the worst night of my life to the two people that will want to talk about it for a month. Who else is there? Hermione would be with Ron and Harry himself. Luna? Yes! Luna wouldn't pry.

I begin searching compartments, but can't find Luna. Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot sit together laughing and talking about Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. It seems Terry was just choking on a bean flavored soggy newpaper. I cringe. That one's wretched.

I move on, wondering why friends always take to threes. Not Luna. She always sat by herself, except once when Hermione and I joined her. She was a three then. The thought makes me smile. I like Luna a lot.

"Oomph!" The air is knocked out of my lungs as I fall to the floor.

"Watch where you're going, Red. I'm guessing you don't have collision insurance."

I could practically feel Malfoy's smirk. Rolling my eyes, I begin to get up, but find that I'm being lifted by the waist. I never noticed before how large Malfoy's hands were. His slender fingers grasp my hips, resting there once I'm on my feet.

"Yes, well, you shouldn't be surprised seeing as how you're standing in the middle of the walkway." I brush the tendrils that fell from my bun back and look up at him. Woah. My eyes widen slightly as I take in my blond nemesis. Draco Malfoy looks… different. He appears taller and fuller, his shoulders wide and his jaw pronounced above a strong neck. I lick my lips, finding my tongue to be dry.

Laughing, Malfoy releases me and turns away. That's it? I think. I wait a moment longer for another snide comment, but his attention is elsewhere now. I hear Pansy Parkinson walking toward us and understand. She's changed, too. I hate admitting it, but Parkinson is attractive now. Somehow.

I walk around them. Did I just hear Malfoy laugh? Draco Malfoy didn't laugh, he snorted or hissed or smirked or snickered. He didn't laugh. The day was getting weirder by the minute. And where is Luna!

The dark blue school robes fit loosely on my petite frame. I'm used to it, though. Every Weasley has hand-me-downs, so I don't take it personally that my robes even smell like my older brother, Percy. But he was so tall! Grabbing a handful of cloth, I pull gently to pick up the bit gathering at my ankles. I take one last look in the restroom mirror and promise myself to try these things on ahead of time next year. I admit I'm not the tallest of girls.

As I exit the loo I hear Harry's laugh in the compartment to the right. I freeze and listen.

"No, she didn't!" Ron chuckles.

"Don't say anything!" Harry pleads, amusement evident in his voice, "She'd hate me for telling you."

Hermione huffs, "Stop it! The both of you! It's not funny. She's probably devastated. Poor Ginny."

The room begins to spin. I feel dizzy and nauseated. "Poor Ginny." Yes, poor, pathetic Ginny. My lungs feel as if they are twisting and squeezing the air out of my body; my throat closes. I can't even cry out. I have a sudden desire to find an open window and jump out.

I back up and smack into a compartment door. I vaguely realize it's giving way, but I want to escape, so I don't care. The world around me has become hazy as I sit, hands braced on my knees. The door is a blurry rectangle before me, the only thing separating me from Harry in the other compartment… making a mockery of me.

How dare he? I think. Why am I letting this get to me? I've been possessed by Voldemort and I lived through it! I can certainly live through this!

A cough echoes throughout the compartment, awakening me from my silent agony.

I lift my face up to meet my intruder. I'm not at all surprised to see Malfoy again. I know my tear-streaked face, red, runny nose, and messy hair tells him the story of my defeat. But that's the good thing about being defeated. It's already over, so it just doesn't matter anymore.

He sits on the opposite side of the compartment, his ankle on his knee and a book in his hands. To my surprise, I watch him lift a pair of muggle glasses from his face. He looks nice like that, I think to myself, before mentally trampling the thought to death.

"Aren't you going to tell her to get out?"

Only then do I realize Pansy standing at the window, closing her robes over… virtually nothing but her knickers!

The blood rushes to my face and I can only assume I look like a walking tomato. This isn't happening.

Malfoy stands, holding his book at his hip. He gives me that all too familiar once over. "She can stay. We'll leave."

I'm too shocked and mortified to protest.

"Why should we leave?" Pansy scoffs, but Malfoy's already opening the door and stepping out.