Ghost of You
~Chapter 21~
I got tired of waiting
Wondering if you were ever coming around
My faith in you was fading
When I met you on the outskirts of town
Love Story – Taylor Swift
~*~
"Miss Weasley, I'd like a word." McGonagall called out over the leaving Saturday morning class. She gave Luna a quick roll of her eyes, to which Luna smiled and patted her arm before parting. Once the classroom had emptied she moved up to the front desk.
"Yes, Headmistress?"
"I haven't received your off campus request for the Yule Ball yet." She said in a distracted tone, fingering through a stack of papers. Ginny dropped her bag in surprise, still unable to speak. "You only have a few days left, and then I can't arrange the Portkey for Mr. Potter."
"He's not coming."
Weeks, and weeks, and weeks she felt she'd waited to hear from him. Every morning, every evening, every afternoon, she scanned the owls hooting above all their heads looking for one that was coming from him. They never were. It would be a note from her Mum, just checking in, or a funny card from George who'd taken to sending her random bits of mail since the food fight scare, but nothing from Harry. It was as if he'd disappeared. Again. The tabloids still had enough to speculate about. But whatever it was that he'd been called away for after that Hogsmeade weekend it was intense, because no one had seen or heard from him, not even Ron.
She tried not to think about it. It made her want to vomit. Often enough she'd find herself walking down the halls and catch a head of black hair and clench her teeth, sick with worry.
"Not coming?" McGonagall's stack of papers hit the desk with a soft whoosh.
"I haven't heard from him since the Hogsmeade weekend. I don't know when I will. I don't know where he is." She felt numb; it dropped from her mouth without emotion.
"That is most troubling." McGonagall started, and then pursed her lips together. "You see, Miss Weasley, you have to go to the Yule Ball. Head Boy, Head Girl, Prefect's from years four and up, and Captains. I'm afraid it is tradition."
"So was the tournament beforehand. Can't you just let me slide?" She looked up at the Headmistress with pleading eyes.
"I'm afraid not. You are going to have to find someone to take you." McGonagall implored; her mouth curving into a thin frown. She felt the room start to dim on the edges of her vision. Her control, the constant control that she'd had to put in place to get her to this point in the year, was reaching a boiling point. She didn't know how much more disappointment she could take, or how much longer she could stand the demands and pressure she'd put on herself. Having to go to the Yule Ball was one thing, having to now find a date for it as well felt like a snapping point.
"Headmistress, you've received an owl." A third year interrupted their conversation and Ginny took that as her leave. She grabbed her bag and made a bee line for anywhere in the castle that would get her away from it all. It was a pretty hard task these days. Since there wasn't the fear of death from wandering the halls they were always full. Plus, the weather had changed and it made better sense to sneak into an abandoned corridor, or hide in an unused classroom then to brave the windy, soggy grounds. After running into her fifth Hufflepuff she pushed through one of the courtyard doors and pulled her jacket close to move toward the greenhouses. They were always empty on the weekends, no one wanted to do Herbology homework within them, and Professor Sprout enjoyed her two days off.
She resembled a wet cat as she pried the door to the fifth year greenhouse open, and leaned against the glass. Pushing her hood off, and wrapping her sopping hair into a twist she heard a pot clatter and smash against the ground and hung her head.
"Ginny?"
"Neville." She whispered to her shoes. She shifted her backpack and he seemed to shout instantly,
"Don't go."
"It's a little too wet to leave." She growled and slammed her bag down onto a dirt-dusted counter. Her wet jacket came off next. Day's like today were particularly hard because it reminded her she was poor as well as cursed with bad luck. Her jacket had done little to shield her from the rain; her shirt was damp as well.
"I want to talk to you." His voice bounced as he moved toward her.
"Can't we just pretend the other person isn't here?" She wrung her hair out again, it was getting so long that it was in the way more then anything else. She started pulling the tangled mess into a sloppy braid, still avoiding him. Thunder and lightning broke across the sky and she looked up through the dirty panes to see the darkened clouds.
"No," he gave her a soft touch on her shoulder. "We can't."
"I got really bad news today, I don't know how much more control I have." She finished her braid and tied it off with some string from one of the workstations. Finally she turned toward him and crossed her arms over her damp chest. He looked different, changed somehow. She saw him every day, and yet didn't see him. They had both become very good at avoiding each other and only paying attention when it was imperative. Like most of the boys in her life he seemed older, and the slight tan he'd had at the start of term was now gone.
"What news? I didn't see anything in the papers." He took a step toward her, concerned.
"You're looking?" She took a step back and leaned against the wall again.
"I always look. It's important to be informed of what's going on. There's still Death Eater's out there terrorizing families and escaping the punishment they so rightly deserve. If I hadn't promised my Gran that I'd finish school I might have signed up right along with Harry." He brushed off his soil covered hands along his pants.
"Don't. All it brings are scars and bruises and danger. You're better off graduating and being some kind of Herbologist. I hate that he's an Auror." She snapped and then covered her mouth; she hadn't meant to say it out loud. She'd been thinking it, thinking it a lot over the last few weeks, but she had the frightening feeling that if she said it out loud, if she voiced it, it would almost be like cheating on him. They'd fought so much about it, they'd tried to make peace over it, but in the end she still hadn't changed her mind. Flashes of that night when she'd poked his scar taunted her. If he hadn't been able to agree with her then, he never would.
"Do you really feel that way?" Neville quietly asked. "You always seemed so supportive."
"Why would I want him to constantly be putting himself in danger?" She locked eyes with him. "Who the hell would? Other then girl's who only loved the idea of him and don't actually love him."
"Well, love can be an ugly thing. Sometimes it brings out the worst in people." Neville said cryptically, looking away.
"Are you saying my not being supportive is ugly?" She felt a weary pulse and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands.
"That's not what I was talking about." He sighed and seemed to deflate against the table across from her. "Look, Ginny, I miss you. I miss my friend. Can't we just be over this and go back to normal?"
"I can't even remember what I was mad about right now, Neville. I don't know." She tucked some loose hair that had not made it into the braid behind her ear.
"I know why you were mad, and I shouldn't have done it, but I don't think it warranted a month of solitary confinement when it came to you." He propped his hands up on either side of himself, seeming to use the table to keep himself upright. "I just called out to him in the store. You're too protective of him. And he's too protective of you."
"I'm sorry," she snapped to attention, having a flood of the memory wash through her brain. "I was under the impression that a boyfriend and a girlfriend are supposed to support one another. How would you even know what its like to be us? To have your face in the tabloids, to have salacious rumor's spread about you? I can't go anywhere, I can't do anything, I can't be seen with anyone without it igniting something. I'm miserable because of it. And to add insult to injury he's not even here to shoulder some of the attention. So I'm sorry that I was upset that you spurred another round of whispers and articles about us, but you should have known better."
"Ginny, if you're miserable then what are you still doing with him?" Neville reached across the gap between them and held onto her shoulders. She wanted to shake him off, but first she was too tired, second she was too sad, and third she was so lonely. Hermione wasn't really the hugging type, and it felt like no one had touched her in a sympathetic or even friendly kind of way in such a long time. She bowed her head.
"I love him."
"Why does that sound like an excuse?"
"Despite it all, I love him." She looked up. "I do, Neville."
"Even though you're miserable?" He frowned at her.
"Even though I'll continue to be miserable. McGonagall told me I have to go to the Yule Ball." She shook her head slightly, annoyed.
"And that's a bad thing because…" He trailed off.
"Because I have no date." She bluntly put and fell silent, absorbing the heat from his hands on her shoulders. It was taking the chill out of her bones, her clothes still damp with all the storm water. Her thick, wet, braid was starting to curl at the ends, and she watched as Neville's chest started to rise and fall with a faster pace.
"I'll take you."
"No." She moaned and tried to move away, but he kept her in place.
"Ginny," he waited until she looked up. "Please, let me take you."
"That's a bad idea, Neville. You should take someone who deserves your time. Take some girl you fancy, or even some girl you just sort of like. I'd be your worst possible choice. I'll be sullen the whole night. You shouldn't take me." She made sure to move out of his hands this time. She grabbed her coat and hung it on a doorknob; with a flick of her wand it was instantly dry. Not that it would help much on her trudge back to the castle, but at least she wouldn't have to put a wet coat over her wet clothes.
Neville's hand fell onto the frame of the door, stopping her from leaving, and she turned around to find him inches away. His right arm was above her left shoulder and his body was leaning toward her. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her stomach give a nervous flop.
"Let me take you. I wouldn't want to go with anyone else."
"You must be crazy. I haven't spoken to you in weeks and now you're ready to take me to this dance?" She searched around for the knob with her hand, feeling slightly trapped by his close proximity, it was making her head swim a bit.
"Are we friends are not? You're going to have to try harder then a little spat between us to get rid of me, Ginny Weasley." He smiled that slightly lopsided smile that he'd only give her when they'd accomplished a very daring and very productive mission last year. There was so much history between them, so many life debts, and personal debts, and deep connections. Things Ron and Hermione would never know, things even Seamus and Luna never knew, things she'd never tell Harry. That thought made her pause. Wasn't she supposed to be able to tell Harry anything?
She guessed there were just some things that didn't translate. He probably had memories or stories about Ron and Hermione that just couldn't be repeated because they wouldn't make sense without the context of the moment. There were certainly things about her past boyfriends that she knew she'd never speak of in front of him. Yet, somehow, with Neville, these secrets seemed wrong. But she had missed her friend in Neville, that best friend relationship that had formed. She craved that unconditional bond that continued to hold them together, that had managed to get them through to this moment right now.
"Fine. But don't expect me to like it."
"There's the Weasley I remember." He laughed and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him as well, and then let go. He held on a little big longer, and she squirmed out of his hands.
"So are we friends again?" He grabbed her backpack for her.
"Until you piss me off." She threw her cloak on.
"Doubt it! You love me." He joked and threw a hip toward her. She punched him in the arm.
"You have far too much confidence in reading my emotions. I despise you." She pulled her hood over her head and opened the door to the torrential downpour. Neville shrugged into his jacket as well and then grabbed both their bags.
"You love me." He teased.
"Keep wishing!" She teased back, and then they made a break for the castle.
~*~
"You seem cheerful today." Hermione looked sideway's at her in Potion's.
"Do I?" She distractedly answered and continued to dissect the frog in front of her. Professor Slughorn, despite the wailing cries of several of the female students, had decided they needed a proper lesson on how to dissect the animals they used in potions so often. Today started with frogs, she was afraid to know what came next. Hermione had already made quick work of her own, gaining the much needed twenty points to Gryffindor. They were still fifty points behind Ravenclaw after the food fight, and while everyone was doing their part she was starting to feel the pressure. The fastest way to pull ahead would be to beat them in Quidditch, and that task fell on her shoulders.
"Yes, the last couple of days you've been in a much better mood. Could it possibly be the fact that you and Neville are speaking again?" Hermione swept invisible dust off their table.
"It does seem to make everything easier in my life when I'm not trying to avoid someone. So yes, perhaps that is it." She stopped to wipe at her forehead, the dungeon never seemed to cooperate, either it was stifling in the winter, or freezing in the summer.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Ginny." Hermione said quietly. It seemed out of place so she looked up to find her frowning.
"What?" Ginny exhaled.
"Nothing."
"Please, just say it. I might be feeling better but my temper is still on a very short stick." She jabbed the frog a little too hard. "Sorry."
"The frog is dead." Hermione sighed. "It's none of my business."
"But." She prompted and pulled out the last thing she needed. She leaned back in her chair, wiping her sweater covered forearm across her forehead again, and then looked at her blood splattered hands. "Scourgify!"
"But I heard that you're going to the Yule Ball with Neville."
"And?" She looked over at Hermione, who was biting her lip.
"Did you break up with Harry, and I didn't know?"
"No." She calmly stated.
"So why aren't you going with Harry?" Hermione leaned forward, almost whispering it, even though they still had a Muffliato spell on the classroom.
"Because I have no idea if Harry is dead or alive. I haven't heard from Harry in over a month." She started, feeling her blood pressure rise.
"Neither have I." Hermione cut in.
"McGonagall told me I had to go to the Yule Ball, even though I begged her not to go. And I've missed the Portkey deadline."
"Harry could come anyway, he has before." Hermione injected again.
"Neville asked." She continued without stopping. "I said yes. Easy enough. Maybe if Harry wasn't out vanquishing evil all the time he could have gone with me. Not like he'd want to anyway."
"That's not fair!" Hermione snapped. "How do you know if he wanted to or not?"
"He doesn't like dancing. He doesn't like crowds. He doesn't like attention. This Yule Ball will be nothing but that." She hissed.
"But he likes you. He'd do anything you asked, and now you're just going to go with Neville without even giving him the chance to turn you down?" Hermione's cheeks were turning red with anger.
"He already turned me down, Hermione. He basically said he didn't know what he'd be doing by December. He said he'd see. I gave him plenty of time to figure it out and still haven't heard anything back. I have to go; I don't have a choice, so I have to have a date!" She banished the remains of the dead frog with a little more force than necessary.
"I think that's a fair answer. You can't expect him to know when Death Eater's or trouble is going to come up. He's trying the best he can, Ginny." Hermione clenched her fists. The rosy cheeks, the determined look, the clenching hands all made Ginny's blood boil further. It had been so long since she'd thought it, but the memory popped into her mind immediately. In the end, Hermione was always Harry's friend first.
"If this was opposite would you still be fighting with me?"
"What?" Hermione shrieked at her.
"Tell the truth!" She yelled back.
"Of course I would. How dare you. How dare you." She broke off, tears filling her eyes and turned away from her. Remorse flooded her and she moved to touch Hermione's back and immediately apologize for being so horrible, but the bell for class sounded throughout the castle and Hermione moved so fast she could have sworn she apperated.
~*~
Now it seemed to be Hermione's turn to hate her. She was hoping it was Luna next so she could just be done with everyone despising her for a week at a time. Hermione refused to sit with her for the next couple of days, leaving a bewildered Dean, Neville, or Seamus to fill the spot. The boys at least had enough sense not to ask what was going on. Every time she was close enough to try and apologize Hermione would take off. She even tried staying up and waiting for her, but the sleeping draughts made her pass out, and they lasted for eight hours exactly. If she took them any later than already planned she'd never wake up in time. She knew what she had to do; she'd just have to endure a night of nightmares in order to talk to her.
George had once commented, back in her fourth year, that if Hermione, Ron, and Harry got any closer they'd be triplets. She had laughed and asked why. And still remembered, to this day, the laughing tone he took when he told her,
"I'm a twin, I know these things. You start to take on the other person's personality until it's too difficult to figure out where you end and the other begins. You mark my words; if things get worse around here we won't be able to tell those three apart."
George, like always, was right. Things did get worse, the three did get unbelievably closer, and now it appeared that parts of each of their personalities had rubbed off permanently on each other. Hermione used to be a big crier, lots of tears and hiding. Ron used to be explosive with his temper; it was Weasley trademark after all. Harry used to be solitary in his rage, cutting anyone out that had managed to piss him off, which was often. Now she saw all three of them in the stony indifference Hermione was giving her. She waited until the day of the Halloween feast.
An entire week without Hermione's help had been dreadful. She was an excellent task master, and brutal in her demand for obedience. She was positive that the only reason she was doing so well was because of Hermione. She also was quite sure the only reason Harry and Ron got as far as they did at Hogwarts was because of Hermione. She'd ducked out of the festive Great Hall well before dinner was over and sat in their room. Waiting. She even managed to take a little nap before Hermione finally snuck into the room right around midnight. Ginny watched as she took off her shoes, and tiptoed across the room.
"Hermione, I need to talk to you." She lowly said, but it still caused her to jump, shoes flying.
"Ginny." She grabbed her heart, her name coming out in a whoosh.
"I know you're mad at me. I know you are avoiding me. I just wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry. I was completely out of hand, and I shouldn't haven taken my anger over Harry out on you." She quickly said before Hermione could disappear again. She watched as her friend tucked some hair behind her ear and moved up to lean against Ginny's bed.
"I'm sorry too. I keep forgetting that I need to just butt out when it comes to you two. You're both quite capable of dealing with your problems on your own. I shouldn't have said anything." She looked down at her hands.
"No." She leaned forward and put a hand on her arm. "Harry's your best friend. You had a right to ask. I probably should have told you, but this whole situation makes me angry. I don't want to go at all. And to have to find a date, when all I really wanted was for Harry to come…" she dropped her hand. "It just complicates everything when we're all so close."
"It really does." Hermione gave her a small smile. It made a rush of relief fill her body, and the fatigue of staying up washed over her, she leaned back in her bed. "I've missed you. Seamus thinks he's funny and Dean can be so haughty at times."
"Tell me about it!" She yawned, her eyes watering.
"Oh no. Your potion. You can't take it now." Hermione stood up from the bed and turned to her. Ginny waved her off,
"One night of nightmares isn't going to kill me. Maybe they won't be nightmares, maybe I'll have pleasant dreams about rainbows and butterflies and crap like that."
Hermione broke out into a long laugh, and then moved to her trunk pulling out a heart shaped vial.
"Or maybe we can make sure you do." She gave Ginny the bottle.
"What is this?" She palmed the bottle.
"One of George's daydream potions. I believe this one has to do with castles and knights in shining armor. Maybe you won't get the kind of sleep you need with your regular draught, but it might be able to alter your brain just enough that you won't have nightmares. Well at least for two hours." Hermione reached into her hand and pulled the top off.
"Are you sure about this?" She looked at the potion.
"No, but it's better then what you'd get without it, right?"
She swallowed the potion as her answer. Hermione smiled and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She was out before the door closed.
~*~
She was in a giant field of sunflowers; they towered above her and shaded her from the blazing sun in the cloudless blue sky. She put out a hand to push some of their leaves and stalks out of her way and let out a low laugh.
"Oh my." She had several rings on: a ruby on her pinky, a large safire on her middle finger, and bands of silver on her thumb. Then she noticed the enormous bell sleeves, and the ridiculous frothing of lace that seemed to be spilling from underneath the dress. She was in a long, heavy, velvet gown, hunter green, with an open front that exposed the lacy shift beneath it. It drug across the dirt and grass, spilling out behind her like a carpet. The front of her dress laced up with thick white ribbon, and the corset nature of it made her small chest look ample and heaving.
"You have got to be kidding me." She whispered to herself and started to make her way through the field. The sunflowers parted after only a few moments and in front of her was an enormous castle, much like Hogwarts, with towers, and turrets, and entire walls of stained glass, even a moat. All around it were orchards of trees, and fields of flowers. There wasn't a single village, even a single villager; she seemed to be all alone, tucked against a mountain in this absurd fantasy. She guessed that made sense, you don't want some dodgy villager ruining your moment. She crossed the bridge, her heels (which she rarely wore in real life) clicked across the wood and she stopped in the courtyard.
The courtyard was also deserted. Ivy and roses climbed up the stone pillars holding decks and patios above her. A small fountain filled with koi fish bubbled happily in the near silence. She made her way across the small inlay of stone, peeking around corners, leaning into doorways, but the place was empty. She moved back out into the courtyard and sat down on the edge of the fountain.
"What kind of daydream is this? I'm the only one here." She told the empty space, and was promptly greeted with the sounds of clashing steel and cursing. Coming out of a corridor she knew to be empty only moments before was a flash of brown hair followed quickly by a shadow of black hair. She remained seated, her mouth opening slowly as Neville and Harry came rolling out of the doorway clashing swords and wearing billowing white shirts with very tight pants.
"You can never have her!" Neville shouted and lunged at Harry with his jeweled sword.
"She was never your's to take!" Harry smirked and easily missed the jab. They continued to fence getting closer and closer to the fountain. As they approached she noticed that while they both looked like Harry and Neville from afar, the closer they got the more different they appeared. For one thing Harry wasn't wearing glasses. They both had this kind of rugged edge to them, far too much bravado, and she didn't want to think about it, but a lot of chest hair that was peaking out from their shirts. She tried to look away but it only made her eye focus on the very tight pants they were both wearing that left little to the imagination.
"You'll have to kill me before I leave again!" Neville rolled and jabbed out, Harry's sword met his and a shower of sparks fell over her. They started backing up toward the fountain and she suddenly found herself caught between the two, Harry to her left and Neville to her right, and their sparking swords continuing to shower her in the middle.
"If it pleases my lady I'll kill you now." Harry laughed and they both took a step toward her, she leaned back to miss the sparks, and promptly fell into the fountain. It was freezing, and she came up sputtering and coughing, her clothes sticking to her skin, the dress weighing her down in the shallow water. Koi fish started biting at her ankles and she stood up, shooing them away. Water poured from the impractical outfit, and Neville was gone.
"Where's Neville?" She looked around.
"I've dispatched him." Harry stabbed his sword into the ground and leaned against it, a haughty smile on his face. It was something Harry would never do and this annoyed her.
"Why'd you kill him?" She yelled. Fantasy Harry blanched for a moment and then offered her a hand out of the fountain; she crossed her arms refusing his hand.
"He's kidnapped you for the last time, Princess. There was only one way to ensure your safety and the safety of the kingdom. Does his death upset you?"
"Did you just call me Princess?" She let her hands drop, her rings and bracelet's glittering off the surface of the water.
"The fall must have pained you. You are not yourself. I must get you to your bedchamber so you can change." Fantasy Harry proclaimed, sheathing his sword, and with one solid movement yanking her from the fountain and cradling her in his arms.
"Bedchamber?" She repeated, looking into his face, but he looked forward stoically and took off down the hallways. Her dress was slopping around everywhere leaving a trail of water behind them as he burst through doorways, and ran up stairs, never losing his breath.
"It has been three long months since I last saw you, my lady. I feel I have served you well in the battle against our enemies. You can imagine my horror upon arriving here to return as your personal guard to find you a captive in your own kingdom. Villagers deserted you, your own court has betrayed you, and our evil foe attempting to ravage you and take your honor." He stopped at a door and looked deeply into her face. "I have failed you."
"I'm going to have a word with George over this." She mumbled to herself. It was almost impossible to believe the situation at hand; then again she'd never really been much of the fantasy type. The script was horrible, the situation was improbable, and she had the distinct feeling that something entirely not PG was about to go down.
"You must hate me, my lady." He set her down, now covered in water as well, making his clothes stick to him. She was definitely sure Harry was not that muscular. "I will take my leave."
"Wait." She held out her bejeweled hand, her long fingernails (another thing she didn't have in real life) scratched across his chest as he turned to go. She didn't know why she told him to stay; she thought it must have something to do with the potion. Fantasy Harry's face filled with hope and against her conscious will her fantasy self said in a very seductive voice, "I need assistance in removing my corset."
"As you wish." He reached behind her and pushed open the door. The bedroom opened up before her and she let out a tiny laugh. An enormous four-poster bed filled the room; you could easily fit six people on it. Gauzy bolts of fabric wrapped around the posts and shielded the bed through a white veil. Large oak furniture filled the rest of the room: a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, a table, and a trunk at the foot of the bed. Large displays of flowers spilled over every ledge and surface, a soft breeze lofted through the space. Despite it seeming to be mid-afternoon at the beginning of the dream, now the entire space was filled with a red and gold glow from the sunset spilling from the windows.
"It has been so long since I last saw you." A deep baritone voice growled at her. It was disarming, it sounded nothing like Harry.
"Don't speak." She commanded.
"If it pleases you." He said and then silently pulled at the bottom of her corset to untie the knot. Slowly and carefully Fantasy Harry pulled the ribbon out of each hole of the corset. With every millimeter he went the dress started to loosen and breath. She stood still as his fingers worked the thick ribbon, and felt herself start to heat up a bit in anticipation. There was something to be said for corsets, it did add excellent suspense to undressing. His fingers stalled on the last loop, then he ripped it out with force and her dress fell to the floor around her, leaving only the lacy shift that was still clinging to her body. Continuing to stay silent his hot fingers traced along the contours of her figure, and then he moved up close to her face. Her heart started to pound in her chest, his breath fell across her neck making the tiny hairs tickle her.
"I miss you, Harry." She sighed and let her head rest on his too broad shoulder.
"As I have missed you, my lady."
The dream started to fade, the room became a haze of grey, and then she was alone in her bed, feeling more depressed and lonelier then she had before the potion. She felt some tears sting at the corner of her eyes.
"So how was it? You weren't screaming all night. I hardly heard you!" Hermione asked from her bed. She was lacing up her sneakers, a dark blue sweater and jeans already on. Slowly she sat up, the tears slid down her face, and Hermione froze.
"Let's not do that again." She gave her a sad smile and pushed the covers off to go to the bathroom.
~*~
Saturday came and went far too quickly for her taste. All it left was Sunday evening before her whole routine started again. Quidditch practice had been very productive. They had worked out some of the kinks in their defense, and she had seen an odd man with a tweed jacket making notes on a pad in the stands. She'd figured it was the scout, but unidentified visitors at Hogwarts always made her slightly on edge.
Hermione was drilling her on the non-verbal's she couldn't seem to master in front of the fireplace for a least an hour before the rest of their group started to nod off.
"See you tomorrow." Dean yawned and shuffled his feet toward the stairs. Seamus gave a wave and followed quickly after. Neville appeared to be studying one of his books, but then his head dropped quickly and snapped right back up.
"I'm awake." He said to no one, and then turned wide eyes onto her and Hermione. Neville blushed a bit and then closed his book. "I'm going to bed."
"Night." She laughed and turned back to the pin cushion in front of her. With all the concentration she had left she tried to imagine the damn thing turning into a porcupine so hard that her brain started to hurt. Nothing happened. She dropped her wand to the floor and leaned back against the couch.
"I'm going to fail."
"Try again." Hermione prompted distractedly correcting one of her Charms essays. "Remember to focus your intention."
"Intention." She huffed and closed her eyes.
CRACK!
"What the bloody hell?" Hermione shrieked and jumped up from her chair.
"Kreacher?" She yelled, surprised. The house elf gave a very low bow, his ears hitting the floor.
"Kreacher says hello to his master's girlfriend."
"Um, thanks?" She scrambled off the floor to sit on the couch. Kreacher stood back up and fixed his aged eyes upon her, ignoring Hermione altogether.
"Master has asked me to give you a message. A very urgent message."
"Hand it over then." She held out her hand.
"Master could not write. He wished for me to tell you that no matter what it says in the paper tomorrow he is fine."
"What?" She and Hermione said in unison, she moved to the edge of the couch.
"Master has suffered a horrible accident. Very broken, very burned. There was a vicious dragon that broke loose. The dragon has been contained but people were hurt. Master was hurt worst. He is at St. Mungo's right now. But he is fine."
"Like hell he is." Ginny shouted and stood from the couch attempting to break away and figure out how to get to St. Mungo's.
"Wait!" Kreacher called out with urgency. "Master does not want you to come. He asked Kreacher to make sure you didn't."
"How are you going to stop me?" She said down her nose to the house-elf.
"I'd be careful." Hermione quietly voiced. "House elves have their own kind of magic, Ginny."
"He said, 'Please, Ginny. Please, don't. Please.' I must make sure you do not go." Kreacher held out his hands in front of him, finger's spread and she got an ominous feeling.
"Then why did he summon you in the first place?" She snapped, still refusing to sit.
"Master wished for me to tell you he will be fine. That he is sorry he could not write to you. That he is sorry that this mission was so long. That he wishes things were different. That he wishes he could be better for you. That he misses you. That he loves you. That he is sorry. Then he grabbed Kreacher and demanded that I not let you come and see him. Then he passed out." Kreacher gave another low bow.
"Oh dear." Hermione's voice seemed very far away. She grabbed the edge of the couch and forced herself to stay upright. The sound of her breath was echoing in her head, it was the only thing she could hear.
"Ginny? Ginny?" Hermione swam into view. "Breathe!" She took a large breath and everything shimmered back into focus. She ignored Hermione and fell to her knees in front of the house elf.
"Tell me, Kreacher. Will he live?"
"Of course." Kreacher gave her a short bow.
"Will he be scared, where are the burns?"
"Master has been burned on his left hand and arm, his left chest, and his left hip. The dragon blew a ball of fire right toward Master, and he was able to shield the family it was intended for, but not his entire self." Kreacher played with a silver locket in his hand.
"Oh, god!" Hermione gasped.
"The breaks, Kreacher. Where is he broken?" She pushed, trying to stop her hands from grabbing his rags and shaking him.
"To get the family to safety master levitated them down a cliff, but then fell down the cliff himself. He broke his right leg in two places. He broke his left arm, and two fingers on his right hand." Kretcher put the locket back into his pocket and she caught a glimpse of it. Slytherin's locket. Her stomach turned.
"Before or after the burns?" She meekly asked, trying to hold back the wave of nausea. Kreacher didn't answer immediately, and she lost all control. She grabbed the front of his filthy rags and shook him hard, twice.
"Ginny, stop!" Hermione yelled.
"Did he break everything before or after the burns?"
"After." Kreacher's voice bounced around as she shook him one more time.
"Jesus!" Hermione hissed. "Oh, Harry. Harry."
"But he'll live, Kreacher?" She continued to hold onto his rags.
"Master was already healed when he summoned Kreacher. Master looked very much alive. Kreacher suspects it was the pain potion that made Master pass out." Kreacher continued on with his calm voice, despite the violence that had been inflicted upon him. Ginny released her hands immediately and sat back on her heels.
"Thank you, Kreacher. I'm sorry I shook you." She put her hands over her mouth, her dinner threatening to come back up.
"Kreacher is proud to serve his master. He is a good master." He gave another low bow and with a loud CRACK was gone again.
"Ginny, I'm so sorry. This is horrible, but he's fine. He'll be fine." Hermione put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and she felt herself go hot with fever. Her stomach rumbled and after one gag she threw up all over the floor.
"Don't worry, we can clean it up. Everything will be okay." Hermione soothed and waved her wand over the mess. She lifted her shaky hands and shot a scouring spell at herself as well.
"It's fine. I'm fine." She stood up.
"Ginny, you're not fine." Hermione grabbed her wrist to stop her.
"I have to be, don't I? Too dangerous for me to know what it is he's doing. Too scary for me to come see him at the hospital. I never know anything. I have no reason to be worried. He thinks he's protecting me. I should be fine." She said in a controlled voice feeling hallow and light now.
"I…he…just…" Hermione stuttered, for a moment unable to find anything to say.
"He just sent Kreacher so I wouldn't make a scene. He sent Kreacher so I wouldn't have another fit." She looked into the fire.
"He sent Kreacher because he loves you." Hermione tugged her arm to try and get her attention. It didn't work; she looked at the fire for another moment and then turned away, pulling her arm out of Hermione's grasp.
"If he loved me, he would have let me come. It's only fair, he did it for me."
Hermione slowly nodded and let her go. She made it up the stairs, undressed in a fog, tipped back her potion like she'd been trained to do, crawled into bed, and welcomed the oblivion that would wipe away the panic she wasn't allowed to feel.
~*~
The expected hush that fell across the Great Hall Monday morning would have been comical if she was in a better mood. At almost every plate, on every single table was a copy of The Daily Prophet. All eyes snapped to her, some with worry, some with intrigue, some looking quite malicious waiting to see the tears. Hermione was whispering fast and low to the other three as she approached and took her seat. She filled her plate with the appropriate amount of food; the appetite potion was already pumping through her veins, and poured a cup of tea.
"Ginny." Neville started first.
"Harry is fine. I don't want to talk about. Let's pretend this never happened." She said to her food and refused to look up. Seamus attempted to move his copy of the paper under the table before she could see it but the headline blared across the page, taking up almost half of it:
Harry Potter Clings to Life After Daring Rescue!
She let out a low breath and looked up at the enchanted ceiling, it started to snow.
~*~
The owls over the next three days were excessive and annoying. They darted after her down hallways, they showered her with sludge and snow at meals, and they pecked at her hands as she was coaching her team. That was the one that annoyed her the most, because it made her look bad in front of the scout. Every day that she had booked he was there in that tweed jacket taking notes.
Everyone seemed to want an update on Harry, and for whatever reason they continued to think she was holding back information. Harry was the surrogate son and brother to her family, and while he was her boyfriend Ron probably knew more than she did. Hermione seemed to be getting owls hourly now from Ron, and despite trying to hide it, she could tell Hermione was very worried.
Harry was always getting hurt, or maimed, or broken in some fashion, but someone had always been able to see him. This time he neither wanted nor asked for anyone's help. Bill and Fleur had gone to St. Mungo's to try and find him. After arguing with the head nurse for an hour they came to find that her Mum and Dad, and herself had been added to his list of emergency contacts. They were the only people that could see him. The next day her Father had gone, managed to get through to the hidden ward they were keeping all the injured parties from their mission, only to find that Harry was gone.
She pulled out George's letter again, now creased and worn from how many times she had folded it.
Gin-Bug,
Dad told me the Minister himself pulled him aside to talk to him. They were able to heal up Harry pretty fast, once he was fine he checked himself out. The Aurors still there think he went back to try and help finish up what was left. No one can really say because it's all very confidential.
I guess he was in and out before any of us even knew. Take care, love. I'm worried about you.
George
But she knew. She'd known before it had even hit the papers. Hermione, over the last few days, had been trying to tell her that it proved Harry's unwavering love. She agreed, but it still stung that he didn't want her there. He'd spent his entire summer making her blankets, giving her food, sleeping in chairs by her bed, and he couldn't even let her spend a single night by his side? She folded the letter back up and tucked it into her pocket.
"I've been thinking about why Harry wouldn't have asked for you to come to the hospital, Ginny." Luna voiced next to her as they walked toward Transfiguration.
"Why?" She looked over at Luna, wrapped up in a blue and black scarf and her winter robes.
"I figure he didn't want you to stop him." Luna continued her eyes far away.
"How'd you come to that?" Ginny shoved her hands deep into her coat, wishing the castle wasn't so blasted cold.
"Harry has always been secretive. But Harry has also always been steadfast. If he had a mission to complete, I don't think he'd let some broken bones and scars stop him." Luna paused outside their classroom. Ginny looked at her friend slightly uncomfortable at how close to the truth she was. "But you would, Ginny. And Harry would do whatever you ask."
Luna turned and skipped into the classroom, leaving her in the hallway, dumbstruck and anxious. Luna was right, it was most likely the reason he'd sent Kreacher. But, that also meant that he had left the hospital to immediately go fight whatever it was out there again. Students started filing past her into the classroom, whispering as she continued to stare out onto the grounds, fingering all the little things in her pocket now: the vial, the amulet, and her letter from George.
"Nervous about the game, Captain?" Professor Turnsdale gave her a friendly pat on the back.
"Yes, of course." She distractedly answered, then looked up at him. "I mean, no."
"It's alright to be nervous. Only two more days until the very first match. I think it's going to be spectacular. Although the snow will make things difficult for the Seekers." Professor Turnsdale gave her another pat and then made his way into the classroom. Her stomach turned, two days? Two days? Where had the time gone? A breeze of familiar sandalwood brushed past her and she looked up just in time to see Michael Corner shoot her a cheeky grin. He strolled into the classroom to cheers from all the Ravenclaw's.
"Bloody Corner." She mumbled to herself and then straightened up and went into the classroom herself. The Gryffindor's exploded with cheers, and a rousing first verse of 'Weasley is Our Queen'. Ravenclaw's started hissing and booing, Gryffindor's started gesturing and yelling, and she took her seat next to Hermione.
"That's enough." Professor Turnsdale laughed. "Settle down."
"Everything okay?" Hermione lowly whispered.
"Fine. I'm fine." She snapped, sick of the question at this point. Hermione turned away, stung. For a moment she thought about trying to smooth everything over, but the impulse quickly passed and instead she banged open her book and zeroed her eyes to the front.
~*~
Two days. Two day. It kept bouncing around in her head. She tried to get some homework done but all her eyes could see were the defense and offense charts she had drilled into her team. Even when she closed her eyes all she saw were blurry images of Quidditch stands and fluttering Snitches. She'd never fall asleep, and there was a part of her that didn't want to. The control that she had willed upon herself with all the potions was helpful when it came to homework, but it made her entirely too sedentary and slow feeling for something as explosive as Quidditch. So, without telling anyone, she decided not to take the potion tonight. Instead she was going to work on some homework, go over her charts, and feign sleep if Hermione came in.
She might have finally started to warm up to the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione continued to find several other things far more important. She kicked around some dirty clothes, pushed aside stacks of books and homework, but she still couldn't find her Defense book. Deciding it must be downstairs she pulled on a jacket and headed out. As she hit halfway down from the girl's dormitory she heard someone talking in the empty common room to the fire.
"She's asleep."
"Oh. You won't go wake her up, will you?"
Her heart stopped in her chest. It was Harry's voice. He must have Flooed the fireplace. A small sound escaped her throat; she took another step, and then froze.
"No. She has to sleep, Harry. You know how busy she is. Anyway, it doesn't matter, once she takes the potion she's knocked out for eight hours straight. She should have taken it about an hour ago."
"I understand. I just thought…"
"Thought you'd pop in and prove you're not dead? I'm glad you did. But I'm the only one awake." Her voice, while sounding relieved, was obviously disapproving.
"How is she? Really?"
"Sad. What did you expect? She was really upset that you sent Kreacher, Harry. You should have just let her come. We were warned she might go into a depression and your antics only made it worse. I mean, Dean, Seamus and Neville are always trying to cheer her up, but she's always better when you are around."
"Does she not have any friends that are girls?" He sounded annoyed, and it made her smile.
"Just me and Luna. Why? Jealous?" Hermione teased him.
"Always."
Her heart started beating fast in her chest.
"I should have come back to Hogwarts."
"You don't get to say that." Hermione snapped at him. "You made your choice, live with it."
"I know." He snapped back at her.
"This was going to be hard enough for her. Two years to cover at once. Now she has this scout sitting there at every practice watching what she does. She's going to get a tryout for the Harpies if she wins this game, Harry. So much is riding on this year for her, and all she wanted you to do was share it with her. Instead now she gets random scraps from you and second hand information from Ron." Hermione steamed out in a harassed tone.
"I just thought that if she went back with you and Luna everything would be fine. I thought it would be enough. I couldn't go back, Hermione. I mean, I think about it, but it just wouldn't have worked." He croaked out at her, his voice sounding fatigued and solemn.
"Don't worry. Plenty of people are constantly watching her back now."
Hermione gave a little snort and crossed her arms leaning back a bit.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped at her.
"I'm not going to lie to you; it's a very tight knit group of friends she has. I swear she can't go anywhere without one of them following her around. But I can't tell if it's because they like her, or if it's because they're all that close. A lot happened when we were gone, Harry. I'm just starting to hear pieces of it now. But that's the choice you made, so just suck it up and wait it out."
"Easy for you to say." He sounded angry and exhausted all at the same time.
"When she was in the hospital," Hermione started slowly and calmly, but Ginny could tell she was annoyed.
"Don't do this." Harry moaned.
"When she was in the hospital you told me, you told me Harry, that all you wanted out of your life was to kill Voldemort and to have a normal life with Ginny."
"I know."
She sucked in a surprised breath. She hadn't heard this.
"Even when she was sick, even when the nurses thought she might not pull through, you told me that you wanted her. A normal life requires you being here, Harry!" Her voice rose to an irritated pitch. "A normal life requires dating, and marriage, and houses, and babies. You choose to fight evil instead. You choose it."
"Please, just stop." He groaned out at her.
"I'm just stating the obvious. Because you somehow lost your mind in all this mess and forgot that you have a gorgeous girlfriend that is severely depressed by your antics and feeling abandoned here at Hogwarts."
There was a long moment of silence. Just Hermione's quick breath and the crackling fire, she held her own, knowing there was still more to be said, but frozen to the spot. She turned her attention back to her feet, trying to get them to move.
"She's going to break up with me, isn't she?" He sounded so defeated her heart broke in her chest and she tried to physically lift her legs, they wouldn't move.
"No, Harry. She's not. But you're not making this any easier on her. You could at least write to her."
"Really, I can't. You know I would if I could."
"I know." Hermione quietly replied.
"You should have just woken her up. I don't think she would have minded the missed sleep."
"Like I said, I can't. She'll be dead to the world until six o'clock tomorrow." Hermione countered. She tried to move her feet again, tried to say anything, but she was frozen. A slow realization started to form in the back of her mind. It wasn't her brain that had paused her, Hermione had.
"Crap. Everyone's starting to wake up. I have to go."
"Bye, Harry. Be safe."
"I'll try. Watch out for Ginny, will you?"
"I always do."
"Bye."
The fire rose and then settled back down into red coals. Hermione shook her head disapprovingly at the fireplace and then started to gather up all her books. She couldn't move, at all, she'd been frozen to the spot and the injustice of it all started to burn in her chest. Hermione paused at the bottom of the staircase and absently waved her wand,
"Finte Incantatum."
"Why would you do that?" She screamed. Then slapped her hands over her face, she hadn't realized it would come out as a scream. She pounded down the stairs, blazing with fury, and stood over an extremely startled Hermione. "Why, Hermione?"
"I…I…thought you were asleep! I didn't know Ginny!"
"You couldn't look at who you froze? I was there the entire time! What were you going to do if someone was actually there? Memory charm them? Why would you do that?" She dropped to her knees, feeling the tears start to form in the back of her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I put that spell on the stairs every…I thought you were..." Hermione stuttered, turning white. Ginny just shook her head and glared at the fire. So close. He was so close. She felt his voice echoing around in her head, and dropped her face into her hands, hiding the tears she knew were coming.
"I'm sorry." Hermione said again, and her stomach contracted as the first set of tears broke through. The Fat Lady swung open to Dean and Neville chatting about something.
"Ginny?" Neville's voice broke through, and she heard two sets of shoes running toward her. Hermione had been right about one thing, she was never left alone. Maybe she was being too nice to the boys, maybe it could be considered leading them on. She felt both sets of hands lightly touch her back, and for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd gotten here wished they were Harry's.
"Leave me alone." She shook off their hands, her face still puffy with tears and anger. "Everyone just leave me alone." She shot to her feet and started to back away.
"Ginny, I'm so sorry." Hermione's meek voice pleaded. She turned on her,
"Especially you!"
"Ginny?" Neville and Dean shouted in confusion. She felt Neville's hand absently grab her elbow, something he always did. Something she always let him do, and the shame of knowing that she's allowed it all this time flooded her.
"I said don't touch me, Neville." She ripped her arm away and ran out of the Portrait hole. Not caring where she went just needing to be alone for once.
~*~
She woke up on the floor of the Charms classroom. Her body ached, and she couldn't shake the chill that the stone had blasted into her all night. With a quick reorganization of her clothes she pulled herself up, and made her way down toward the Great Hall. It was Thursday. One of her hardest days now coupled with the upcoming match as well as the disaster of what waited for her in the Great Hall, caused a giant sigh to escape. A quick glance at the clock told her she could still make it to breakfast on time. She really didn't want to, but she knew she had to eat something despite not feeling hungry.
Her eyes landed on the Gryffindor table and the four of them looked up. Hermione was still ghastly white, with eyes rimmed with red. Neville and Dean continued to just stare at her, both confused and wary. Seamus waved his arms over his head, but she frowned at them and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. An explosion of noise erupted as she moved across the Hall, past the Hufflepuff's almost bursting at the seams there were so many of them, and came to stand behind Luna. Everyone around Luna stuttered to a stop and looked up. She knew it was a calculated risk; the match was far too close to be sitting on enemy lines. But she could not face nor want to deal with any of the four of them. Let the Great Hall turn into a hurricane with all the hot air escaping today, she didn't give a single damn.
"Oh," Luna smiled at her. "Hello, Ginny."
"Morning, Luna. Do you mind if I sit with you today?"
"Of course not!" Luna slid over, the entire bench paused for an unbelievable moment and then shifted to let her in, and she sat down at the empty plate. "Pumpkin juice?"
"Actually tea, please." She grabbed the pot and mug and started pouring and then put some food down, mostly just for show. Everyone was still silent around her, and the Great Hall sounded like snakes had been set loose there was so much whispering.
"As I was saying, William, I just don't believe that the legislation the Ministry has set in place will actually benefit any of the Magical creatures. All it does is make the Wizards feel safe. They should have just as much right to be on their land as we do. It should be a partnership, not segregation." Luna finished and bit down on a piece of toast. The table fell into a forced relaxation, conversation started back up, and she drank in the black tea and slowly picked at her food.
"I just can't comfortably say that I would share my land with a Manticore, Luna. They are unpredictable, spiteful, and dangerous. Not to mention a nuisance. I think that giving them their own land, separate from the Wizarding community would benefit them. They can be within their own element, unafraid of when a Wizard might finally turn and kill them out of fear." William rebuttled. Ginny's head swam. It was almost seven in the morning; no one should be talking like this.
"Yes, but where would this land be? Somewhere exactly like the homeland's we're pushing them from, or wherever it's convenient for you?" Luna argued, and William blanched.
"What do you think, Ginny?" William zeroed in on her, and she froze mid chew. The whole Ravenclaw table turned to look at her and she swallowed hard.
"Well," she cleared her throat. "There are varying degrees of danger when it comes to magical creatures. I think each one should have their own specific investigation to see if they really are a threat. Like, Werewolves. We can't have wild ones around Wizards or Muggles. But there is progress of them turning away from their instincts and using Wolfsbane to control themselves. We can't banish the good with the bad. It's a complicated situation." She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't sounded like a complete idiot.
"Sure you're a Gryffindor?" William teased, and the table let out a laugh. The bells started chiming and everyone stood to leave. Luna turned and smiled,
"Where are all your books?"
"In my room." She grumbled.
"You can share mine today if you'd like." She leaned forward and picked something out of her hair. "Bit of dust in your hair."
"Thanks." She dropped her head and her neck popped. It was going to be a very long day. Her hand absently ran to her pocket and fumbling around with the objects as if they'd give her strength. They stood to leave and she glanced over at the Gryffindor table, they were all still sitting there. Hermione stood up, to get a better look, and she turned and started steering them toward the other door,
"Let's go this way."
~*~
After hours of mind numbing learning, most of which she slept through, she stumbled into the room and saw a slowly bubbling caldron. She stopped right inside the doorjamb, confused and worried that it was probably nothing good. Hermione emerged from the bathroom and froze seeing her there.
"Ginny, please don't go."
"What is this?" She nodded toward the center of the room, a soft, sparkling haze spilled over the sides of the caldron.
"I felt so bad about what happened last night. I've been trying to fix it." She walked over and dropped some items into the mix.
"It can't be fixed. What's done is done." She crossed her arms, anger flaring through her chest.
"But…but it's not." She stammered and stirred the pot. The white haze turned into purple smoke with a bang. "I can't fix it completely, but I've been working on this all day." She carefully stirred the mixture counter clockwise four times and then stopped.
"Did you not go to class?" She dropped her arms, now amazed. When she hadn't been sleeping she had buried her face in her books, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.
"Of course not." Hermione stirred the smoking mixture counter-clockwise six times. Then jumped up from the pot and went tearing through the books next to Ginny's bed. She pulled out one of the pictures from her picture book and without much concern tossed it into the pot.
"Hey, what are…" Ginny started and then slowly started moving toward the center of the room. Hermione poked at the mixture with her stick, the purple smoke sucked back up from the sides and into the pot. She quickly blew out the fire under the caldron and stood up.
"Where's the sound?" She looked down into the mixture with a frown. But Ginny barely heard it. She moved toward the pot and looked down. There on the now glassy surface was Harry. He was sitting in a tent, the walls flapping madly with what must have been strong winds. Staring ahead, his hand would occasionally scribble down something. He looked tired, and tanned, and older. He looked down, shadows started moving around him, closed the book he had been scribbling in, and got up from the table.
She touched the rim of the caldron, it was freezing, not the heat she had expected. She snapped her hands back up to her sides as he left the tent into a windy, barren looking mountain camp. People were hurrying around everywhere, some levitating what looked like prisoners, some talking in huddled groups. He moved past them all, people giving him nods as he passed, and he pulled back the flap on another tent to reveal what looked like sparse living quarters. Another man, one she didn't recognize at all, gave Harry a wave and started talking to him.
"What did I do wrong? Why isn't there sound?" Hermione fretted next to her. Without looking she found her arm and held onto it tightly. It quickly shut her up. Harry said something in return; the man gave him some pats on the back, and then left him alone in the tent. He quickly pulled on a black sweater, over all the black he was already wearing, and started shoving items into his pockets from the drawer next to his bed. Finally stopping on a final item, she sucked in a startled breath. It was her necklace. The one she'd been wearing the last time she'd seen him. The silly Narggle protector that Luna had given her, hanging on a red string. He put it over his head, shoved it under all his clothes, patted all his pockets, and then walked back out the flap into the blinding sunlight.
The clear surface started to move, Harry started to ripple and expand, and then he was gone. All she saw was the last bit of picture dissolving into the clear liquid in the bottom of the caldron.
"Sorry there wasn't any sound." Hermione quietly said. Ginny threw her arms around her and hugged her as tight as she could. Feeling tears of joy and frustration threatening to break through. Hermione was still startled and hadn't hugged her back yet.
"Thanks you. Thank you. Thank you." She kept repeating, her voice slowly breaking off into tears. She started sobbing into Hermione's light sweater and tie, and felt arms come around her holding her close.
"I'm sorry Ginny."
"Don't be sorry. Thank you." She cried again. Trying to pull her closer, needing to feel someone around as the beginnings of a breakdown started to form in the back of her brain. She was just so tired, and so strained, and so lonely. Even with everyone around her, even with everyone in high spirits, she didn't have the one person there that mattered.
"It's okay, Ginny. See, he's fine! And he'll be fine. And you'll see him again soon. And if he ever shows up in the fireplace again I'll wake you up, or find you and bring you there." She hugged her fiercely. "I'm sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry. You're forgiven." She blubbered and hung onto her friend.
"Are you going to be okay?" Hermione ran a hand up and down her back.
"I'm so tired." She sniffled, and tried to wipe away some tears. "I'm trying really hard not to show it, but I'm miserable."
"Oh. We'll you're a very good actress." Hermione guided her over to her bed and pulled down the comforter.
"You were right, you know." She sniffled and climbed in, all her clothes still on.
"About what?" Hermione wrestled her shoes off, dropping them to the floor.
"I'm never left alone." She wiped her nose against her sleeve, tears still catching on her lashes and then falling down her face. Hermione pulled the covers over her and frowned,
"I just said that to get a rise out of Harry. He's so easily manipulated when it comes to you. I haven't said it, because it was his decision, but I really thought he should have come back to Hogwarts." Hermione looked away from her when she said it, focusing instead on moving her shoes.
"He couldn't come back." She swallowed, and then snuffled. Hermione looked back up. "It just wouldn't be right. He was done Hermione. At least that much we could agree on."
"I guess. I just," and she looked away for a moment, seeming like she was about to cry herself. "I didn't think I would finish this alone. Your brother and Harry were the reason I even stayed my first year. It was their friendship that changed my mind. I thought we'd all graduate together. I just feel lost without them here."
Hermione looked back down, playing with her comforter, and Ginny heard the first tear drop onto the fabric. She quickly sat back up in bed, and pulled her arm, gently. Hermione sat down next to her, and then burst into tears. Ginny felt her own tears pick back up, and gave Hermione a hug across the bed.
"Look at us. Blubbering over those two twits. I'm sure we've never even crossed their minds." Ginny started, half laughing, half crying. "We both came back because we wanted to. We should make the most of it. And if that means being far too popular and having salacious rumors started about us so be it. I'm sick of hiding and being quiet. It would have been twice as bad if those idiots had come back." She pulled back from Hermione, wiped her face, and smiled.
"You're right. No more tears. Let's make the most of it." Hermione sniffled and wiped at her own face.
"Starting this weekend. After my victorious win we're going to Hogsmeade." Ginny grabbed Hermione around the shoulders, giving her a supportive squeeze.
"Yes. And we're going for a drink as well!"
"Hermione!" She laughed.
"And we're making Ron pay!"
"Getting better with every sentence." Ginny encouraged.
~*~
Author's Notes:
WHAT? Two chapters in one day? Yep. That's how I roll. And because I love you all! Thanks so much for all your continued support for this story and your wonderful reviews and adds.
And thanks to Taylor Swift, her wonderfully girly music put me in the perfect mood to write Ginny's dream sequence. It was dreadful before that! LOL