Time Heals All Wounds
Ginny Weasley is haunted by the events of her first year, ashamed of her disastrous relationship with Harry Potter, and terrified of losing the only person who saw her as whole.
KTBallerina
Honesty is the Best Policy
When I was six, I broke Mum's lamp that she kept in the living room. It was a family heirloom, one of the only ones she had. Her family had been moderately wealthy, but her dowry was stretched thin by a family of nine. Upon hitting the floor, it smashed into a thousand pieces, maybe a thousand and one.
When she asked who broke the lamp, I was scared to tell her it was me. Her eyes lingered on Fred and George as she stared accusingly at them. It was probable they were the ones who caused another accident. The moment seemed to go on for days.
"I did," I told her, tears welling up in my eyes. Instead of yelling, she pulled me into her warm embrace.
"Honesty is the best policy," she told me.
I remembered that for a long time. In fact, I remembered that, but I never seemed to be able to tell anyone the truth. Or not about Tom Riddle, the Chamber of Secrets, or what I really felt.
I thought about Harry Potter constantly that first year, if I had known how things were going to turn out between us I would have run the other way. Well, probably not, but I wouldn't have made it so obvious. It was that year, that I hid my crush on Harry and tried to move on with the rest of my life.
So, that year and the following I put forth an effort to ignore my feelings for him and act normal. This had been Hermione's tactful suggestion and I still don't know if I'm grateful for it. I was still shy, and didn't say much. It was better than chasing him down with Valentines and the like, though. The crush became less apparent on the surface.
Reflecting back, I am certain I loved him. And that for some reason, we could never be together. Maybe it was because he would always think of me as Ginny Weasley, his best friend's little sister. It was his loss, because in the end it hurt him the most.
Draco and I always avoided discussing Harry. It sounds silly, but he was a vice we both had. I mean, to Draco he was the enemy, his rival. And to me, he was the unobtainable. Not exactly a pleasant topic for either of us.
We avoided things of that nature while we were together. So, some topics were naturally avoided. Mostly, our families and our Houses and the latest quidditch game and each other's friends and our favorite teachers and politics. Well, that sounds like we didn't talk about much, and maybe we didn't.
I never told Draco I opened the Chamber of Secrets. I didn't want him to feel responsible for what his father did. Besides, after my first year the incident was entirely forgotten by almost everyone.
Everyone except Ron and I. However, we responded to it entirely differently. He seemed to think the whole situation was another reason to treat me like a child. And I, well I will never forget because the memories are entirely too painful. They remain at the corners of my consciousness. Even before I arrived at school before for my second year I had another reminder.
Dementors searched the Hogwarts Express. The Dementors make you relive the horrors of the past. I had to relive the moment when Lucius Malfo gave me the diary and when Tom Riddle appeared out of the diary and what he did to me. How he tried to suck the life out of me to make himself whole.
Sometimes, I feel like I never got all of my soul back. Or that some of the soul in body was his. Nobody else can really say the Dark Lord possessed their soul, no besides me anyways. Because once you've seen the darkness, you can never really be okay ever again.
I remember Ron saying Draco didn't look none too happy when he saw the Dementors, either. I never asked him what he saw, I didn't want him to reciprocate the question and ask me. It never occurred to me that Draco was scared of anything.
It was weird because I knew what Harry was afraid of without even asking. Voldemort. Losing his friends. Being alone. I debated before writing the last one. Because I know he would do anything to keep from being alone.
I know loads about Harry. I learned from listening, while I was supposed to be reading or eating. I learned from Hermione, who needed some relief from her pair of male friends. I learned from watching him interact.
I am simply the type of person who learns as they live. I learned mischief from George and Fred. I learned quidditch from Charlie and study skills from Percy. I learned how to be cool from Bill. I don't exactly know what I learned from Ron, because I can't play chess. However, I am sure I learned something, I just don't know what.
That year, I learned from Remus Lupin. I have talent in Defense Against the Dark Arts, too. Not that anybody ever cared, but I really am. Remus Lupin helped me fight against a boggart, not exactly a Dementor but impressive for a second year. Draco was curious about where I went every other Thursday, knowing I did not have classes.
"Been a busy bee?" he asked one day after she threw her stuff down a little ways down from him by the lake.
"No," I said as calmly as I could, trying to imitate his air of indifference.
"Secret quidditch practice so you can make the house team next year?" he guessed idly, taking a puff from his cigarette.
"Meeting a boy for assignations by the lake?" he asked a hint of both amusement and laughter in his voice at the very thought.
"No," I replied, laughing, "only you."
"Boggart lessons, perhaps?" Draco stated dryly. I was certain, my jaw hit the floor when he said this.
"How did you-"
"What does the boggart become when it sees you?" he asked suddenly. I stiffened, I never dreamed it would come to this. How could I tell him the teenaged Voldemort was my greatest fear? "It obviously bothers you, otherwise lessons wouldn't be important."
"Your father, Voldemort." I had only hesitated for only a moment. I had broken one of our sacred rules. I discussed family.
Draco put out the burning end of his cigarette, he stood up and walked away. He never even looked back. For a brief moment I thought about chasing him, and telling him the truth.
But, I never did.
