Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or places, they all belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling
Summary-What if Ginny and Harry's life had taken a different turn after that fateful kiss in the Gryffindor Common Room? What if violence, tears, and a different kind of love intervened with their "Happily Ever After?"
Timing- Just after Harry kissed Ginny in the Gryffindor Common Room during his sixth year.
Chapter Four: Beginning
Agitated. No matter how many times Ginny tried to pinpoint exactly what she was feeling, it always came back to that word. She couldn't sit still, couldn't stick to one activity. It could be that she just didn't want to, that every time she moved, every time she switched forms of entertainment, she did it to keep her mind from lingering too long on any given thing. Long enough for it to get bored and want to think about more pressing issues.
One of which was the growing pile of letters on her desk. Ginny supposed that she was, in a way, lucky to have Hermione as a room mate. Even though she was persistent in trying to get Ginny to talk to her, she didn't let anyone else in the room. She hadn't even seen Ron recently. She was also grateful for Dumbledore not pushing the matter of what exactly had happened. He had accepted the lie about a spell gone wrong, even though he probably saw right through it.
As hard as it was, in order to keep up belief that she was "better" and to keep the rate of rumors down, Ginny had had to return to classes on Monday.
Today was Friday, a half day for her, and currently she was drawing a very intricate pattern on the side of an assignment she had finished half an hour ago.
A knock startled her out of the weaving and interlocking lines.
She got up and walked to the door, pausing right behind it and calling "Who is it?"
Even though she knew who it was, a girl could hope, right?
"Harry."
She sighed. What was the point of even hoping anymore? She looked at the letters, looked back at the door, and tried to get her heart rate under control. She'd have to face this sometime.
She opened the door.
Hermione was scared. Everything seemed so fragile. It was as if overnight, she went from walking on solid ground to walking on thin glass. She didn't want to talk to Ron. She had no idea what to say to Harry. Talking to Ginny reminded her of talking to a parrot: limited things they wanted to say, but what was said was with a forced cheeriness.
Who was left that she could turn to?
She turned the corner that led to her and Ginny's room and froze when she saw Harry walking in. Praying that her footsteps hadn't been so loud as to alert them to her presence, she backed up a few paces so that all but her face was hidden by the wall.
The door closed, and Hermione was relieved that they didn't know she was there. She waited, coming up with different scenarios that could be playing out inside.
Maybe would Ginny would tell Harry what had happened, admitting it for the first time in the week since she'd been found. Maybe Harry would comfort her, make her feel better. Maybe everything could just go back to being simple. Maybe…
Harry stepped in, surprised that she had actually opened the door this time.
"Thanks for letting me in," he said a bit harshly. He had a right to be frustrated. His girlfriend had been ignoring the numerous ways he had been trying to communicate with her, whether it was talking or even just writing. Rumors had been flying about her "condition," and he seemed to be the last one to hear about it.
When Ginny didn't say anything, he turned to her. "So…is there anything I should know?"
She walked from the door to the bed and sat down. "Maybe. What do you want to know?"
Harry sat down next to her. She was acting weird, different than he had ever seen her. "Um, maybe why you missed a week of school, and why you've been avoiding me ever since you got back."
"Haven't you heard? I thought everyone knew by now. Some spell turned out wrong and made me kinda crazy. Hermione had to contain me so I didn't hurt anyone."
"Okay, and you didn't come see me just because you thought I knew, or…?" Harry let the question hang in the air. He didn't know what to think. Why would she avoid him if that was the case?
"Yeah, I guess," Ginny said softly. "I haven't really been feeling that great, I'm still recovering and I've been really tired."
And it takes a lot of effort just to write a letter telling me that? Harry wanted to say, but didn't. He figured that if she was still feeling sick, whatever the cause or reason, he should let her rest and be alone.
"Oh, well as soon as you are feeling better, just come over to my dorm, I guess. Okay?"
Ginny nodded. Harry kissed her on the forehead and, pausing at the door, let himself out.
Hermione figured that once she heard the door close it was safe to walk around the corner and continue to head to her room.
She turned the corner and saw Harry walking slowly down the hall, so deep in thought that he didn't notice her there.
"Oh, Harry, hi!" She said, feigning surprise.
The boy looked up, startled, and then replied "Oh, hi."
"Did you talk to Ginny?" Hermione asked, hoping he'd smile and reassure her that everything was just perfect.
"Yeah, she seemed a bit weird."
Hermione felt like punching him. "Harry, of course she's weird! It's her first week being back from being insane!"
"Because of a spell?" He sounded doubtful. Well, who could blame him?
"Yes."
"Alright. I'll see you at dinner," he said and walked past her.
Hermione sighed. That conversation had effectively killed any hope of everything returning to "normal." Then again, it was ridiculous to hope for normal after what happened. All normality had been lost the morning they found Ginny.
She walked into her room to find Ginny lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and not moving at all.
Hermione's first reaction was that she was dead, but she quickly shook off that irrational worry, blaming stress and exhaustion.
"Ginny, are you okay?"
She sighed. See, Hermione told herself, dead people don't sigh. "What does okay mean, again?"
The older girl walked over and sat down on the bed. "What's wrong?"
"Talking to Harry was just really…hard, I guess that's the right word. Being near him made everything seem so much more real, like a dull knife that's suddenly sharpened."
Hermione flinched at the mention of knives. What's with her focusing on death all of a sudden?
"So…you do know what happened?"
"I've always known."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, getting her hopes up even though she knew she shouldn't.
"Not really."
"Okay…Do you want to come down to the Great Hall with me for dinner?"
"Would you mind just bringing something back with you?"
"I guess not."
"Thanks."
Hermione left, bracing herself for another awkward dinner full of Harry's questions, most of which she couldn't answer.
By the time Hermione had returned from dinner, Ginny had given up all hope of sleep, and was just faking it to avoid conversation. Although part of her wanted to talk to her friend, she wasn't going to forgive Hermione for telling Ron that easily.
Her thoughts just wouldn't stop, there was just too much to think about. What would she do about Harry? She felt sick whenever she was around him, and not the butterflies-in-stomach kind that she used to feel, but the I-don't-feel-like-I-can-love-you-anymore-and-I-feel-like-it's-my-fault kind. And what would she do about Hermione? She felt bad continuing to be angry, but she wasn't ready to forgive and talk. Also, how would she deal with being around Malfoy? She had skipped the only class she had with him that week, but she couldn't do that the rest of her life.
And the list went on, too much to even let her feel calm, let alone sleep. If only her mind worked like this with some of the homework assignments she had.
Eventually, once she was sure Hermione was very asleep, she got out of bed and tiptoed out the door.
She had only been walking around empty hallways for about ten minutes when she heard footsteps and saw a familiar outline. One that made her dizzy and her heart race with fear, and maybe something else. Walking towards her was Malfoy.