Disclaimer: None of the characters in this piece are mine, they all belong to J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them for a bit. I'm also making zero cash off of this, mores the pity.

A/N: This is a Ginny chapter. Don't worry, Draco will be in the next one and things are going to get interesting soon! ;)

Chapter Two

Sweet and Sour

Ginny's legs were shaking, making it difficult to mount the steps of the bus that would take her back home. She dropped into the empty seat she found and leaned back, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. Now that the adrenaline was starting to recede, the shock and fear created by the attack hit her full force.

The summer before she had started her first year at Hogwarts her brothers had taught her Muggle dueling. Well, Fred, George, and Ron (who had been mostly used as the demonstration dummy) had. Percy had turned his nose up at it, calling them immature.

It was the one time that Ginny had ever seen Fred and George serious about anything not involving their joke shop. They had sworn that no sister of theirs would go walking around "all those horny blokes who don't give a flying rat's ass about propriety" without a basic knowledge of how to defend herself. Ginny had laughed at it then, seeing it as just a fun way to work off energy, pass the time, and torture Ron. But she was very grateful for it now.

Her mind zoomed back to the attack. She knew perfectly well what that man had intended to do to her in the alley. She was neither stupid nor naïve. She remembered how the hot spike of adrenaline had shot through her, freeing her mind and allowing her to react as she did, pulling all those moves, which were drilled into her brain from hours of practice, out from the past and implementing them in the present. That heat was gone now, leaving her cold and clammy feeling.

The bus ride seemed to stretch for an eternity. Ginny's mind seemed determined to torment her, replaying the attack over and over again, except the ending was constantly different. Over and over she was presented with, in vivid detail, the worst things that could have happened if she had failed to defend herself.

By the time Ginny got off the bus, she was close to tears. She just wanted to get home and wash the feel of that man's hands off her with gallons upon gallons of hot water and at least twenty bars of soap. Every shadow on the walk back was another assailant lying in wait, every gust of wind the sound of him breathing as he crept up on her, determined to finish what he had started.

Ginny opened the front door of her house with a sob of relief. She slipped inside and shut it quietly behind her, locking the terror outside, where it belonged. Taking off her boots, she tiptoed quietly up the stairs, heading directly towards the bathroom.

As she rounded the last corner she slammed into something solid. She was thrown backwards, but warm hands grabbed her, holding her tight. Ginny panicked, her primal instincts taking over, and began to struggle.

"Ginny! Ginny, easy, it's only me," said that dark shape. Ginny froze. She knew that voice. Gradually her pulse began to slow and her breathing returned to normal.

"Harry?" she asked hesitantly, trying to see his face, but it was too dark.

"Yeah, it's me," Harry replied, dropping his hands. His voice was uncertain. "Who did you think it was? The minute I grabbed you, you started thrashing like a wildcat."

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, absolutely mortified that she had let her imagination get away with her like that. "I'm just a little shaky. I was attacked –"

"What?" Harry snarled, grapping her again and pulling her closer to him, straining to see her face. "What do you mean attacked?" Ginny bit her lip to stop herself from cursing, realizing her blunder too late. Knowing Harry he was seconds away from charging off to go kill whatever attacked her, waking up the whole house in the process.

"Come in here," she said, grabbing his hand and hauling him down a flight of stairs and into her room. Closing the door, she flicked on the light and turned around to face him.

Harry stood in the middle of the room in only a pair of jeans. Ginny watched as he quickly turned a brilliant shade of red. It seemed he too had just realized that he wasn't wearing very much. Or maybe it was her own outfit that made him blush and quickly avert his eyes.

"Erm, sorry about, you know," Harry mumbled, gesturing to himself. Ginny couldn't help but grin at his embarrassment.

"Harry, I have six older brothers," she said, walking past him and sitting on her bed. "I've seen more then my fair share of naked chests."

"Right," Harry said hurriedly, turning and facing her, being very careful to focus on her face and not anything further south. "Now, care to explain to me why you are dressed like you just came from a party and what exactly you meant about being attacked?"

Ginny sighed. She figured it was better to tell him the truth then have him go tearing off to her brother with tales of her coming in late at night dressed like a hooker and jumpy as hell. She motioned for him to join her on the bed.

"I've been going out to clubs," she began, ignoring his noise of outrage. "Muggle ones. Tonight, when I was coming out of the club, I was jumped by some Muggle bloke. He attempted to drag me into the alley behind the club, but I defended myself and knocked him unconscious. End of story."

Harry had gotten redder and redder throughout the entire time Ginny was talking and now he opened his mouth, clearly intent on telling Ginny (no doubt in a very loud voice) exactly what he thought of her tale. Ginny slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Do you want to get me killed?" she asked, glaring at him. "If you wake Mum up and she sees me like this, I'll end up six feet under. Now, you can call me any kind of idiot you want, as long as you do it quietly." Harry glowered at her for a few moments before sighing and nodding. Ginny took her hand away slowly, watching him intently to make sure he wasn't about to start bellowing.

"Are you absolutely insane?" he hissed, his voice quiet but still seething with anger. "Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you out there?"

"I've got a damn good idea, thanks very much," Ginny snapped back, her mind bringing up the images that had tormented her on the bus. She began to shake. Her body knew she was safe and was now releasing all the pent up tension and fear.

"Ginny…?" Harry asked hesitantly as he saw her begin to tremble. His gentle voice was the last straw. Ginny felt the tears begin to form and she leapt to her feet, quickly turning her back on him as she attempted to wipe her traitorous eyes unobtrusively.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice concerned, unsure whether the shaking had come from anger or sorrow.

"I'm fine," Ginny managed to say, cursing her voice for sounding so thick and choked.

"Like hell you are," Harry replied, standing and gripping her shoulders, gently turning her to face him. Ginny looked up at him, her brown eyes, which were swimming with tears, peeking through the curtain of her red hair.

Harry wrapped his arms around the slender redhead and held her close. She stayed rigid for a few moments, clearly fighting against her emotions, but the feelings of fear and vulnerability won out, causing her to collapse in his arms.

Pulling both of them down onto the bed, Harry gently brushed the long red hair out of Ginny's face. Tears coursed silently from her closed eyes as she buried her head in the warm crevice between his shoulder and his neck, slim arms snaking around him almost shyly. Harry leaned back against the headboard, cradling her against his chest as she cried.

She didn't make a sound as she wept. It unnerved Harry slightly. It almost would have been better if she sobbed and trembled. But she just laid there, so still that if not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest Harry would have been convinced he was holding a corpse.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered after little while, pulling away from him and sitting up. Harry let her go reluctantly. He had enjoyed the feel of her in his arms and the delicious smell of her hair, almost like summer flowers. It wasn't until this moment that he realized just how much he enjoyed it.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured, reaching out and gently brushing her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. This move brought him closer to her, so close he could almost count the freckles on her nose. She looked so small and vulnerable, looking at him with her big, innocent doe eyes. Taking a deep breath, Harry leaned forward and gently kissed her.

Ginny froze. Harry's lips were warm and comforting on hers. She tried to relax, telling herself 'This is Harry fucking Potter, you fool! You've wanted to kiss him since you were ten years old! So stop being an idiot and enjoy it!' But she couldn't. She pulled away.

"Harry…" she began, unsure of exactly what to say. She was unable to meet his brilliant green eyes, which were filled with tenderness and hope. "I'm sorry, I can't." Harry looked puzzled for a moment, then it dawned on him.

"You mean, you don't…?" he asked, still looking slightly confused. Ginny shook her head, feeling like she was about to cry again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, forcing back tears as she looked at Harry's perplexed and hurt face.

"Is there someone else?" he asked, trying to keeping his emotions off of his face and failing miserably. Ginny shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said again, knowing it was redundant but unable to think of anything else to say. "If you had asked me six months ago I would have probably passed out with happiness." Harry smiled half-heartedly at her.

"I'm always too late," he said, his voice far thicker then it had been previously. Ginny could see the ghosts of all those he had been too late to save swimming in his eyes, especially Sirius. She wanted to reach out to him (he was still her friend after all) but she knew it would only make it hurt more.

"I should go," Harry said after a few moments of heavy silence. He made to reach out to her, but stopped, clenching his hand into a fist and turning away. He opened the door and exited the room silently, closing the door behind him.

Ginny let out a deep breath when he left. She felt guilty, but it was just one thing too many tonight. Locking the door, she changed out of her club clothes and into the overlarge shirt and comfortable sweats she slept in. She still wanted to shower, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stand up for that long without falling asleep and probably giving herself a concussion from toppling over.

Turning off the light, she curled up in bed, arms wrapped around her chest. She wanted to be held so badly, to be cuddled and told everything would be alright. But there was no one there. There never was.

Leaning over the edge of her bed, Ginny reached under it and pulled out a white stuffed horse. The horse, Gem, had been with her for as long as she could remember. Ginny smiled, remembering all the adventures they had gone on together, and how long she had tried to convince her mother to let her get a real horse. Her mother had never gone for it, of course, but Ginny had never given up hope. She wanted to ride more then she wanted to do anything else.

Wrapping her arms around Gem, Ginny lay back, wishing the black tides of sleep would wash over her. But there was no chance of that. Instead of letting herself dwell on the attack, Ginny instead tried to figure out when she had stopped being in love with Harry.

It was the beginning of summer, she guessed, when she had first started going to the clubs. When she had started to get a taste of a life outside the controlled one she lived. The moment she had tasted that freedom, her love for Harry began to fade.

She knew that he would never be able to accept that part of her, the wild part. No one would, not her family or her friends. She guessed she just wasn't made to be loved, not all of her. There wasn't anyone in the world crazy enough to embrace that side of her.

A smirking blonde youth floated to front of her mind, his liquid grey eyes alight with mirth and sarcasm. Ginny quickly slammed that thought out of her head. She may be going a little wild, she told herself sternly, but there was no way she was going that crazy.

Turning over, Ginny hugged Gem tight to her and began to drift off to sleep, determinedly refusing to allow even one sliver of a certain blonde obnoxious git to penetrate her thoughts before sleep claimed her.