Ghost of You
~Chapter 26~
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay
~*~
She couldn't call it hiding. It was more like avoidance. Well aware of Neville looking for her, and well aware of the shadow Hermione had become, Ginny resigned to staying within the confines of her four-poster. After she had slopped her soaking wet clothes off, after her fingernails had slowly changed back to pink from that horrible frozen purple color, after she had cleared her brain of anything that could set her off again, she had marched over to her bed and closed all the curtains. She summoned a few candles, set them to float, and proceeded to work on her massive backlog of assignments before she'd have to meet Luna.
Hermione had fretted about for a bit before finally admitting defeat and leaving the room to do whatever it was that Hermione did these days. It was around mid-afternoon, when she had caught up to all her Potions assignments that the first owl had fluttered to their window and tapped until she let the poor animal in. Shaking off snow and what appeared to be sleet she let the bird warm up before it took off again.
Ron. Her brother had actually sent her a letter. For a moment the letter moved with her trembling hands before she slipped a numb finger under the seal and opened it. She glanced at the few quick and slanted sentences:
Ginny,
Did the hospital tell you anything about potions Harry was supposed to be taking?
Perhaps a Draught of Living Death? Right? Please tell me I'm right.
I need an excuse to slip it into his tea. Give me an excuse, Ginny.
-Ron
She gave a little shake of her head and tossed the letter into the small drawer of her beside table. Ron already knew the answer to that one; she didn't need to respond. But she did find it slightly bracing that he would try to continue to ask her advice as if she had control over the situation still. She stopped herself immediately. No need in following that train of thought. She should be thinking about her Transfiguration assignments: she'd yet to change her misshapen, ugly rock into anything, other than a different color.
Another hour of coursework, and another owl. This owl pecked relentlessly at the window and when she opened it to let the bird in, a giant gust of snow and ice pelted into the room along with it. She quickly slammed the window shut and let the owl warm up while she pulled the scroll and small package off its leg.
Gin-Bug,
Thought you might need a distraction for a bit. I've yet to come up with a name for this. Maybe you can give it a go until that wanker realizes he's being a bloody fool.
Love,
George
She opened the package and neatly folded in the small box was the enchanted sock George had shown her during the summer. From the night they had all gotten sloshed together and she had passed out on…she stopped the thought. Ensuring she didn't think about Harry was going to be like breaking a bad habit at this point. It was going to take a supreme amount of self-control to erase him from her thoughts. Well, at least remove him from them for a bit. At least stop the thought before it turned her into a tearful mess. Maybe she wouldn't have to do that for long. If she could just be patient…if she could suffer through this punishment…if she was lucky. She sighed, who was she kidding?
Ginny closed her eyes and gripped the sock tightly in her hand. The owl hooted a few times to be let back out and she allowed the storm to fill the room with snow for a moment before she shut the window again. She looked down at the sock and wracked her brain to try and figure out anything that she could name it. The twins always had such creative names for all their products.
Realization stabbed her quickly in the gut and she sucked in a quick breath. They weren't 'the twins' anymore. Just George. Another stab made her eyes sting with tears and she sucked in a deep breath. Focus, no tears. She brought the unassuming sock up to eye level and examined it. If memory served her correctly George had gotten the idea from Hermione and the bag she had used last year. George had figured if you could hide a tent in a handbag you could hide fireworks in a sock. She could hide a trunk in there if she wanted to. You could hide any number of things in there. Things you didn't want to get in trouble for. Things you needed to hide. Things you needed to forget.
She let a shaky hand move down into the pockets of the oversized black jacket she had on and her fingers brushed against them; the vial and the amulet. Barely looking at them she pulled the two items out of her pocket and shoved them into the sock. She let out a charged breath and set the sock down for a moment, it laid flat upon the bed despite having items within it, and shrugged out of the jacket.
Her only other jacket was balled up in a still-damp mess in the bathroom sink. The cold air of the room hit her causing instant goose bumps, but she ignored that and picked up her wand. With a quick shrinking charm she shoved the jacket into the seemingly infinite space inside of the sock and then dropped it back down onto the bed like it was on fire. Was she attempting to hide these physical memories, or forget them? She wasn't sure. But she knew that if he had said he needed time, than maybe she needed time as well. Maybe she should take this time to think about her life, think about how he fit into it, think about if she'd ever be able to move on without…
Maybe she should think all those things, but it was too painful. She knew she should have pulled the memories all back out of the sock and just faced the reality she had created for herself…but it was so much easier to hide it all and forget about it. Picking the sock up she shoved it into the small drawer with Ron's letter. She knew it was wrong, but it was the only way she knew how to function.
After being saved from the Chamber she had grabbed all her quills and shoved them into an oversized Every Flavor Beans box. She'd broken every single quill with the act, but she didn't care. She needed to somehow hide and contain the only physical evidence left of the evil she had unleashed. The quills that had fed the ink and pain into the diary and brought it alive needed to be contained. The box had been thrown at the bottom of her trunk before leaving. Then the box had been set on top of her trunk as she had sat, silent and traumatized in her room for the first two weeks back. Then the box was placed on the table in her room as she started talking and eating again. She'd eye the box, knowing the evil inside it, knowing the quills that had given life to that monster were inside that candy box. And then halfway through the summer her Mum had cleaned her room, and thinking it was a bit of garbage, had thrown it away.
The overwhelming sense of relief was only matched by the devastating sense of disappointment with herself. The evil was gone. But for a second time it wasn't by her own hand. She couldn't tell what was more telling of her character that day; that she had spent most of her summer staring down a box of candy, or that she hadn't told a single soul what was inside it. Yet, the box had done its job. She had been able to slowly start her life again, no longer crippled by her overwhelming fear and the non-stop stream of tears that would accompany it. Now, with this sock, she was doing it all over again. Was it so bad that she didn't want to cry over Harry every hour of her day? Was it so bad that she just wanted to focus on her coursework and her practice without choking up from memories?
"No, no it's not asking too much!" She said aloud in the room, and jumped a bit, startling herself. She gave a final glance at the drawer before shaking her head and muttering, "get a grip Weasley. They might not let you off the fourth floor a second time."
~*~
Ginny took a final, almost obsessive, look at herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Shoulder length light brown hair, her usual brown eyes, and an inconspicuous grey jumper and jeans; she'd blend right in. She didn't have a very long walk from the Gryffindor common room to the library, but if she was going to stick out like a sore thumb on any day it would be this evening.
She was sure that the school was buzzing about her return by now. She was also sure that it was only a mater of time before Neville was going to corner her. She was neither in the mood nor the right frame of mind to deal with Neville and the horrible piercing feeling she'd get in her gut when she thought of the conversation she'd eventually have to have with him. Taking a final big breath she swung open the bathroom door.
"Ginny?" Hermione's confused voice filled the small room and she frowned a bit. Hermione had to have come in while she had been checking her self-transfiguration work for the umpteenth time. She watched as Hermione eyes looked her up and down.
"I have to go meet Luna in the library." She looked over at Hermione who just nodded and then cleared her throat.
"Neville is looking for you." Hermione gave her a cautious look.
"I'm well aware of that." She adjusted her book bag on her shoulder.
"Last I saw of him he was down by the Great Hall." Hermione sat down on her bed, Head Girl badge shining on her shirt.
"Thanks." Ginny crossed the room and put her hand on the doorknob.
"It's going to get bet…" Hermione started to say to her back but Ginny spun around and said in a warning voice,
"Don't."
Hermione nodded, her eyes bright with tears, and ducked her head down, a signal that Ginny could leave. She sucked in another large breath and quickly moved down the stairs into the common room below. Students were laughing and talking, flirting and pushing each other; it would have been a warm and welcoming sight, if things were different. She continued to look at the floor and made a quick retreat through the Fat Lady. She adjusted her jumper a bit as she moved down the next staircase toward the library. Students passed her without a second glance as she made a quick clip through the hallways. She was about to move down the final staircase that would lead her to the library when a somewhat grating voice bounced off the cold stones and up to her ears.
"I just don't understand how you could actually tell the difference between Flitterbloom and Devil's Snare. They're supposed to look identical!" It was a female voice, one that sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. It was quickly followed by,
"Well, if it doesn't try to kill you it's a start."
Neville. Ginny's breath froze in her chest, and then she remembered that she didn't look anything like herself. Neville's easy and carefree laugh mixed with the girl's, and drifted up the staircase to her. She forced her feet to keep moving. She just needed to move right past them and into the library. He had to be standing in her direct route, of all places in the entire bloody castle; he just had to be in her way. She bit back a groan.
"You're so funny, Neville." The grating voice almost cooed and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was true, Neville could be funny when he wanted to be, but it was such desperate flirtation she couldn't help but feel curious.
Focus. Her brain screamed at her. Neville is none of your concern anymore. He could be flirting with Hermione and it wouldn't matter to you anymore. Just get to the library,her brain chanted at her. She almost nodded to herself and stepped onto the landing. She just had to make it past the hallway he was in now.
"Excuse me?" Neville called out to her. Her chest gave a lurch and she swallowed hard before looking up. Hannah Abbott was leaning close to Neville in the empty hallway. She had her blonde curls draped all over the front of her baby pink cardigan, which was quite unbuttoned. Neville was leaning half toward Hannah and half toward an escape; he was smiling, but also had a nervous blush about his cheeks. He took a step away from Hannah to ask, "do you have the time?"
For a moment she panicked. She couldn't say anything; it would tip him off. He seemed to be distracted just enough by Hannah that she would be forgettable. Her dread started pounding in her chest; she refused to even breathe, just in case her mouth disobeyed her. With a shrug of her shoulders and a flash of her empty wrist she quick moved past the two of them and let her curtain of brown hair cover her face. If she flushed at all he'd notice the freckles. Still one of the only things she just couldn't transfigure away.
"Sorry, Hannah, I think I should go." Neville's voice was behind her now.
"But why? Surely you don't have any assignments." Hannah purred. Ginny let out a giant sigh, and as she turned the final corner to the library Neville's voice was almost a whisper inside her head as it echoed off the walls,
"I haven't seen Ginny yet. I need to find her."
She didn't catch what Hannah Abbott might have had to say about that. She broke off in a sprint toward the library, sliding to a stop at the entrance as Madame Pince gave her a warning glare.
"Sorry." She mumbled and carefully walked past the woman. No one seemed to give Ginny a second look before she finally spotted Luna's head bent over some books in a back corner of the library. Her chest compressed with relief and she quickly set her bag down and slumped bonelessly into the seat opposite Luna.
"Oh, hello." Luna gave her a bright smile.
"It's me." Ginny leaned forward, "It's Ginny."
"I knew that. People usually don't like to sit with me otherwise." Luna set her quill down. Ginny felt herself twinge a bit at that statement.
"That's a horrible thing to think, Luna."
"It's no bother to me. I know who my real friends are. Why are you hiding, Ginny?" Luna fixed her silver eyes at her and leaned forward, interested.
"Oh, the usual." Ginny said to the table and then pulled out her books.
"Goblin Mafia? I've heard Quidditch players are having quite a hard time with that these days. It's surprising that you already have a debt to them, Ginny." Luna gave her a concerned look, and Ginny felt the smile freeze to her face for a moment. Then it bubbled in her chest, pushing through her teeth, and she started laughing. Laughing unabashedly at the oddity of it all. Almost immediately she felt something hysterical and painful stab at her gut, just as quickly as the laugh started it dissolve into tears.
Luna was up out of her chair instantaneously and put a reassuring arm over her shoulders as she shuddered and half moaned half laughed into her hands. She could hear a few conversations stutter to a stop around them and forced in a large breath, holding it until her lungs started to burn.
"There, there." Luna rubbed her hand across her shoulders, giving her squeezes of reassurance. She let out the burning breath slowly, willing the control back into herself and took a quick wipe at her face.
"Thanks." Ginny said and pressed her lips together again.
"I brought you something, Ginny." Luna gave her a final squeeze and moved back over to her book bag. Slowly she pulled out a small dark blue book with gold edged pages. A dark and frightening shadow started to crawl up from the hidden depths of Ginny's mind. "I want you to take a deep breath."
"Luna," she exhaled instead. "What is that?"
"It's a diary, Ginny." Luna quietly replied and set the book down between them on the table.
"Is this some kind of fucking joke? Because this isn't funny." Ginny ground out and then sucked in a breath between her clenched teeth. Luna gave her a very long look before she frowned and picked up the book.
"I realized there is something very similar about us Ginny." Luna rolled the book around in her hands. "Publicity."
"What do you mean?" Ginny relaxed her jaw a little against the aching of her teeth, still keeping her eyes directly on the book as Luna shifted it back and forth between her slight hands.
"It hasn't been easy being the daughter of the man behind the Quibbler. I know it's not nearly as much bad press as you've been getting in all those less respectable publications." Luna stopped moving the diary and set it back down between them. "But it's a lonely place to be. You can't confide in people for fear that it will be used against you. It's hard to trust anyone, or their motives."
"Oh, Merlin," Ginny groaned to herself as visions of pelting snow and broken glass and furious pacing assaulted her. She took a painful breath as the area where her heart used to pump gave an awful lurch. Luna reached across the table and grabbed her hands.
"Maybe you should confide in this. It won't whisper your secrets to anyone." Luna gave her hands another squeeze and then pushed the book into her stiff fingers.
"Luna," Ginny let out in a shaky voice as the book laid still in her unresponsive hands.
"It's just a book, Ginny. Nothing is going to hurt you this time." Luna reached back across the table and played with the cover, trying to entice her into opening it. Ginny gulped in a breath and then let her fingers run across the dark blue leather of the cover.
"I don't know." She looked down at the diary between her hands.
"Think about it. Try a page or two. I assure you it will be quite boring." Luna leaned back in her chair. "If you find you still don't like it, chuck it in the fire."
"Okay." She said to the diary and moved it off her books and far down the table, but not in her book bag. She didn't trust it enough yet to let it touch her other books. Eyeing it one more time she pushed away the very dark and dormant thoughts that were trying to surface. "Let's get to work."
"Ginny," Luna laughed and she tore her eyes away from the diary to look at her friend. "It will be fine."
Ginny didn't laugh back, but she forced a smile and pulled out her Charms work.
~*~
She skipped dinner. Hermione had brought her up a makeshift pile of food: some meat pasties, a few dinner rolls, and an apple. She had set it quietly down on her bedside table without a single word and then slipped back out to do her patrol. Ginny suspected Luna had talked to her again, or perhaps Hermione had finally heeded all of Ginny's dark warnings to just stop trying to help.
She snacked on the food and then closed herself back up in her four-poster cave of solitude. Too exhausted to do any further coursework, and too anxious to even attempt to sleep she had watched the candles float around inside her black cocoon for a few hours, emptying her mind. It was a pleasant feeling; it was the longest stretch of time in the whole day that she hadn't felt some kind of horrible physical reaction to the myriad of emotionally charged problems in her life.
Hermione had silently gotten ready for bed and had mumbled a goodnight before rolling around for a half hour. It wasn't until Hermione was lightly snoring that Ginny moved herself off her bed, her joints popping with protest. She pulled out her book bag and grabbed the diary. Luna's complete faith that she could write in a diary again was refreshing, if not slightly annoying. She couldn't tell if Luna had that much optimism for her, or if Luna just didn't understand the torment the first diary had put her through.
Well, she mused, no one knew the torment the diary had put her through. Except Tom. And Tom was dead. And there was also the issue of the tightly guarded guilt she had over the whole situation: not of what had happened, or all the people she had harmed, or even keeping it a secret until it was too late, she continued to feel guilty that she had liked it. She had liked unloading all her problems and emotions and feelings into the diary at first. It had made her feel light and level headed after she'd scratch her worries across the parchment. It had made her feel important and powerful at first, that as the words sank into the page she knew there would be a response. But it had all gone so wrong so fast, and she knew she could never tell anyone that she would miss writing in the diary, because it had released something so evil. But she had missed writing everything down. And Luna was right. A diary wasn't going to blab all her secrets and problems.
With shaking hands she found a quill and carefully opened the book. It made a cracking sound as the binding yielded upon the first opening. She dipped the quill into the ink and held the pen above the page for what felt like minutes before she let it touch down on the paper.
Nothing happened. The ink just started to pool against the page. She looked around for a moment, and then shook her head at the absurdity of it all. Commanding her hand to obey her she wrote out a single word:
Hello?
Nothing. Just her blocky print and a spot of ink. It stuck there, inanimate and permanent. Ginny quickly snapped the diary shut and tossed the quill out onto her bed. She crossed her arms and stared long and hard at the diary. The room seemed to get a bit spinny and she realized she was holding her breath. With a giant exhale she closed her eyes and leaned back against her headboard. Nothing had happened. She didn't know how she felt about that. Before she could start to ponder it she drifted quickly and deeply into her desperately needed sleep.
~*~
After some coaxing, Hermione had managed to half drag Ginny down to breakfast bright and early Monday morning. They were followed by blatant whispering and pointing, which she was used to. They entered the Great Hall to the sound of hissing conversations and giggling, which she had come to expect. But as they had sat down at their usual seats Seamus had leaned across the table, casually tossed a copy of Luminary Magazine over her empty plate, and let out a laugh before saying,
"So should I send the gift to the attention of Ginny Weasley or Ginny Potter?"
"What," Hermione put a protective hand on Ginny's shoulder, "are you going on about?"
"It's not that uncommon, really. But we're your friends Ginny, you could have at least told us." Seamus laughed again and sat back down in his seat. "Didn't want me to have a go at all your single girlfriends during the reception?"
Ginny gave him a dark look and then looked down at the paper. The same Luminary that seemed to be in everyone's hands, the same Luminary that rustled and crinkled like kindling around her blared with a horribly bold, and throbbing headline:
POTTER NEAR DEATH AT ST. MUNGO'S! WEASLEY SUMMONED AS MEDICAL PROXY!
And right under it, in slanted print was:
A secret wedding? Will Harry Potter ever walk again?
"Someone just smother me now." Ginny hung her head and put her face in her hands. Quick and fast a flood of tears tickled at the back of her throat and she bit down on her lip to stop them.
"Nonsense. What kind of rubbish is this?" Hermione snapped and looked down both ends of the table. Ginny looked through the cracks in her fingers as the Luminary magazines vanished as students banished them to keep them from Hermione's wrath.
"Nonsense?" Seamus sputtered. "There is no possible way that Ginny could have been named Harry's Medical Proxy unless she was his wife!"
"And why would that be?" Hermione quickly retorted.
"Because the Medical Proxy age is set at 20. With an exception to that rule being marriage. So don't call it rubbish," Seamus leaned across the table and picked his paper back up, "when you don't appear to know Wizarding custom! So when did it happen Ginny?"
Hermione sputtered and gaped fishing for a retort. Seamus locked eyes with Ginny for a moment trying to gauge if he might have pushed too hard. The entire table was silent, not even forks or spoons could be heard touching plates. Ginny released her hands and took a big breath,
"I'm not his wife, Seamus. But I am his Medical Proxy."
The table erupted in noise; the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students started jostling around trying to get a better look. The smile slowly dropped off of Seamus' face. He opened his mouth to start to apologize for bringing so much attention when she held up a hand to stop him,
"And I can assure that he'll walk again."
She pushed up from the table and every set of eyes in the Great Hall turned to her.
"Ginny, I'm sorry. I thought it was a lie, like all the others. I didn't know." Seamus met eyes with her and she shrugged.
"I didn't either until I got there."
She ignored the rumbling of her stomach and grabbed her bag. The Great Hall was still locked, almost frozen, into silence as she heard her shoes echo slightly on her move toward the door. As her hand touched the knob the immediate rush of noise from the Great Hall was almost like a shockwave as it hit the back of her. She quickly closed the door behind herself.
"Ginny!" Neville's voice called out in the hallway behind her and she stopped, but didn't turn. "Where have you been hiding all this time?"
She heard him let out a laugh as he covered the space and placed an arm across her shoulders giving her a tight squeeze.
"Hi, Neville." She continued to look at the floor; she felt it in her toes first. They curled inside her shoes in dread of the conversation she had been avoiding for two days. "I've been busy."
"Busy with what?" Neville smiled and dropped his arm, he moved around her body to stand in front of her and she looked up, but past his shoulder, not making eye contact. Maybe if she didn't make eye contact he'd just let her pass and she could continue to refuse to face the fact that everything between her and Neville was about to change.
"Assignments, practice, just catching up really." Ginny shifted her backpack and looked past his other shoulder. "I need to go."
"But I haven't seen you in what feels like a week. I wanted to catch up with you, let's get some breakfast." Neville grabbed the edge of her cloak and gave it a light tug.
"Not hungry." She tried to pull away from him. Her calves hardened, matching the anxious tension in her toes. Merlin, she wanted to run away. She tamped down the urge.
"Let's not go through that again, Ginny. Did you take your potion? You need to eat something." Neville dropped his voice so that the conversation was private between them. Students were slowly making their way into the Great Hall, passing them with lingering eyes and whispers. She felt her stomach harden with sudden anger.
"You're not my Mum." She furiously whispered. This was not the hospital, this was not her room, he didn't have a right to tell her that. Besides, Neville had never been one to demand those kind of answers out of her before, that job had fallen to…she stopped the thought before his dark hair could even form in her thoughts. Neville took a slow breath trying to read her expression before he moved closer still, her thighs cramped a bit in response, reminding her that she shouldn't be focusing on her anger, she should be focusing on fleeing the forming conversation.
"Is it Harry? Is he alright?" Neville whispered.
"Whatever do you mean?" She spat back. Her legs started to ache a bit as they shuttered with all the pooled anxiety. She swore she could almost feel the thoughts all connecting in his brain as she watched his face. Her legs trembled again and she started tapping her foot trying to appease their flight response.
"Ginny I can tell. I know you." He put a hand on her left shoulder, and her entire left arm tensed in response. "Tell me."
"He's fine. Bloody fantastic." She said through her teeth. Neville's face blanched for a second and then his hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her down the hall. Her legs seemed to spring into action, sensing their chance. She was quickly moving past him, now looking like she was dragging him.
She needed to keep walking forward, she needed to shake his arm and just get up to her classroom and start this hellish day. If they started talking about what had happened at the hospital, then they would start talking about what happened once she left the hospital, it would all lead to the fight. And if it led to the fight she didn't think she could lie, she didn't want to lie, Neville was still her friend. But once the truth was out, once the admission crossed her lips, she knew what Neville would do. She desperately wanted to hold onto the false hope that she had still continued to read his whole relationship with her incorrectly, but deep down in her chest…she'd always known. The thought made her sick. Nothing good was going to come of this conversation. Because no matter how compelling Neville thought he was going to be, no matter how badly his heart bled for her…she could never love him, not like that.
She shook herself from her thoughts to try and prepare herself. But as she took a few more steps around some loitering students Neville's hand clamped down hard on her arm and he pulled her back a bit and into an empty classroom.
Shocked at the roughness of his grab Ginny ripped her arm out of his hand. The momentum made her stumble into a chair and as she righted herself Neville closed the door and stood against it, looking at her with darting and darkening brown eyes. All the tender emotions in her chest whooshed out to be replaced by white-hot anger. Who the hell did he think he was grabbing her like that?
"Get out of my way." Ginny darkly warned.
"What happened?" Neville countered refusing to move from the door.
"Nothing." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, she'd tell him nothing now.
"Well, he's not dead. I don't think you would have come back if he were." Neville looked her up and down, and she saw it flash across his face, the suspicion. She had to get out of here, now. Ginny took a step toward him and the door.
"I need to go."
"I've heard everyone whispering this morning as I was looking for you. Did Luminary get it right for once? Are you his Medical Proxy?" Neville put his hand on the doorknob and it gave her a jolt of concern. His now dark brown, dilated, eyes seemed to detail her every breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind her old instincts pushed to the surface and she knew that in this moment she needed to tell him this single truth. The truth might pacify him enough to let her leave.
"I am." Ginny felt her legs cramp up again in preparation. She quickly detailed a list of hexes that wouldn't get her expelled. She hoped it didn't come to that, but she didn't like the building look on his face, or the fact that he was blocking the door. When Neville got it in his head that he needed an answer nothing stopped him. She'd learned that much last year.
"So you are his wife?" Neville's hand dropped from the doorknob. Her brain detailed the move, her stomach clenched ready to run. But she instantly felt an exasperated anger fill her.
"How many bloody times do we have to go over this?" Ginny snapped and took a furious step toward him. "I'm not married."
"But," Neville looked confused for a moment, and all the anger, all the dread, and the building fear she had broke apart. Now she recognized her friend, her slightly bumbling, wore his heart on his sleeve, unwaveringly loyal friend. She dropped her stance, her legs relaxed with relief and she shook her head.
"I don't know how he did it, but he did. I'm his Proxy and not his wife. Deal with it." To her horror she felt a shudder of tears start in the bottom of her lungs. She could decide if he lived or died, but she wasn't allowed to love him anymore. She took a steadying breath; her brain shook a bit with all the building emotions brewing within herself.
"Then what are you so upset about? You got everything you wanted, didn't you?" Neville snapped at her. Just as quickly as she had thought he was finally going to act normal he went back to his…mood. Through the threatening tears and the swirling emotions she took a look at him and saw it, saw what she was so afraid of seeing: his desperate anger. She'd seen that exact look only a few days ago on another man; her heart gave a horrible lurch. She couldn't deal with this. Not today, she needed more time.
"Everything I wanted," she let out a bitter laugh. "I need to go."
She moved for the door, their cloaks brushed as her fingers closed around the knob, and Neville's hands came down on her shoulders to stop her.
"Ginny." He squeezed.
"What?" She froze at the door. Neville's warm hands cupped her shoulders and he turned her around to face him. She took a few sideway steps against the urging of his hold, her back now toward the corner of the room, just a few steps away from the shelves of old books and empty vials. The anger gone now she only heard the desperation as he said,
"Tell me what happened."
White faced and expectant he held his breath, waiting for her response. This was it. This was the moment she had been avoiding. She could feel the anxiety and desperation in the air, she could sense the hurt and the irreconcilable disaster of how these next words were going to change everything start to form around them, and decided to just put paid to it.
"He broke up with me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"He what?" Neville's face dropped into shock and something else, something so closely guarded and quick across his features that she almost didn't catch it. But as it had flashed across his light brown eyes, and as his fingers had dug into her shoulders, there was no mistaking it: hope.
"He broke up with me." She said again, this time the tears that had been pooling in her chest filled up toward her tender heart. Saying it, saying those words made it seem all too real, and so raw against her psyche that she felt like flinching. "That's what happened."
"Why would he do that?" Neville asked incredulously, his firm grip on her shoulders slackened and slowly started to move down her arms. A desperate feeling shot off in her mind. Couldn't he just take it for what it was? She could barely stand speaking about it, let along rehashing the reasons. Although a dark part of her knew that was coming as well.
"Please," she whispered and looked away, a lump forming in her throat. "Don't make me say it."
"But it doesn't make any sense." Neville murmured as his hands ran back up her shoulders, one of them ran across her shoulder blades as he noticed her building misery. It was something he used to do last year and remembering the action filled her with a horrible guilt. Instantly the tears broke through the lump in her throat and filled her eyes, blurring her vision. It came flooding back; the fractured lamp pieces across the floor, the white flurries pouring into the room, feeling the shards of glass cut into her feet but letting her frantic desperation cut over any other emotion she might have.
"Of course it makes fucking sense." She thickly said and wiped at her face. She let her book bag fall to the floor with a bang; Neville's quickly fell after it.
"What?" Neville squeezed her shoulders again, the desperate hope written all over his face.
"You!" Ginny sobbed through her building tears. "It was you! He broke up with me because of you!"
"Ginny," Neville moved to pull her closer for a hug and she backed away from him. Something snapped in her chest and against the onslaught of tears she let it all spill out. The pain, the hurt, the guilt, the horror at what she had let happen. She didn't hold any emotion back now: he wanted to have this horrible conversation, he wanted to know this awful truth, she'd let him have it.
"From the beginning it's been you. At the hospital, when I woke up," she sobbed seeing a flash of Harry after the funeral, as his dark eyes looked her and Neville over, "with all that fucking Jello!"
"No." Neville took a step toward her, and she stuck a hand out stopping him.
"Then when I got home, you'd come and visit and I'd talk with you. I'd talk to you when Harry had slept in that chair by my bed for days and I'd never say a single word to him!" She rubbed the back of her hand against the stream of tears, as another series of quick flashes moved across her blurry vision: of Harry sleeping in the armchair, of Harry watching her pretend to eat, of Harry covering her with blankets all while she refused to speak, and the final memory of him standing in her mangled doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
"Please," Neville moved toward her again, and her already outstretched hand landed on his chest to stop him as he moved forward. He put a heavy, warm palm on her shoulder.
"And the Room of Requirement. Oh Merlin." She sobbed again, feeling the tears continue to pool and surge up from her broken core. "What was I fucking thinking? Why would I do that? Why would I betray him like that?"
"It wasn't a betrayal." Neville quickly shot in. She turned her hot and tearful face up toward him, fixing him with an unbelieving stare through her misery.
"Of course it was!" She yelled at him.
"Ginny," he lifted his other hand and brushed some tears from her cheek. Everything clenched, coiled, froze: every muscle, every emotion, every tear, even her breath stopped as he caressed her cheek with a gentle finger.
"No," she barely whispered. "No,no, no." She whispered through her teeth and took a hiccupped breath. She could feel it coming, his desperate hope reaching a perfect swell around them.
"I just…I've been waiting…" he swallowed hard and moved in.
It only took two steps to avoid him and his hands as they attempted to bring her close, before she felt her body smack against the corner of the cold castle stone. The arm that had been keeping him distant folded against his advance, her elbow slammed into the wall. She took a surprised breath as his hand slid over her shoulder toward her upper back, and as she pulled her head away avoiding his lowering face, it knocked against the castle wall.
The memories flooded her: Harry's hands cupping the back of her head at Shell Cottage so she wouldn't hit her head, and again in her bedroom as they'd fallen against the wall when he said he loved her, and yet again in his room against his door several, several times. Over and over they played in her mind, all the times he had protected her in those moments of passion.
The coiling of her body, the frozen shock that had filled her broke free in a sudden rush of blood to her head. Merlin, she didn't want this! She didn't want to make this horrible situation worse by letting him kiss her. She had never loved him that way, she had never even liked him that way, despite all her mixed signals. All her unchecked flirting, all the times she could have been colder to him to reinforce her platonic feelings had created this disaster. She had only ever wanted Harry, and now she was being forced to pay the price for all her mistakes. Harry might never want her again, but she wasn't going to continue making mistakes by being passive. She cocked back her arms, braced herself against the wall for leverage, and shoved Neville away from her as hard as she could. Neville stumbled back, tripping over the backpacks with a wounded look in his eyes.
"Stay back!" She yelled, tears starting to cloud her eyes again as she pulled out her wand.
"Ginny! I thought…" he moved toward her and she shook her wand, its tip buzzing as another swelling of emotion ripped through her.
"You thought wrong! It's always been Harry. It will always be Harry. I'll always want him even if he doesn't want me anymore. Just say away from me Neville!" She sobbed and swished her wand viciously through the air. Neville was blown back, falling into the tables and chairs. She made her break, her fist closed in around on the handle of the door, she threw it open and sprinted out of the room pushing the group of people that had gathered around the door out of her way.
"Ginny!" She heard Hermione, Dean, and Seamus call out to her but she ran, and ran and ran. Up the stairs, tearing past portraits as they scolded her for running, slipping across the cold stone, as she rounded the final corner to the common room. The Fat Lady swung open as the remaining students made their way out for breakfast and she shoved them aside and bolted up the steps to the girl's dormitories.
"Ginny!" Seamus and Dean's voices called out to her from the Fat Lady but she slammed her dormitory door behind herself and swung her wand wide,
"Accio potions! Accio George's sock!" The objects flew out from her side drawer and into her hand. Below her she heard Hermione's frantic voice and three sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs, followed immediately by the wailing screech of the staircase alarm, no doubt trying to dump Seamus and Dean as they raced up the steps with Hermione. She ran for the bathroom, locked the door and ripped out a sleeping draught, and then a second, and then a third. With shaky hands she set them all down on the counter. With one hand she grabbed her sock, and with the other she held onto the first sleeping potion.
She couldn't deal with it. She just couldn't handle all the disaster that continued to befall her these last few days. Walking in on a half dead Harry as he lay bleeding in a hospital bed, being up for two days and fighting off Healers and Mediwitches, fighting with her parents, realizing the kind of control Harry had given her, only to be told the very next day that he didn't trust her anymore. That he needed time away from her when all they ever had was time apart. And now having Neville almost kiss her and confess his feelings despite her trying to keep him back…she couldn't do it. She needed to stop it, at least for a little bit, at least for half a day. She needed to slip back into her coma, like the first time her life had swelled to a point she just could not bear.
Her lungs were heaving with tears and exertion, her chest filled with a horrible pressure of emotions, she fumbled with the wax top and tossed it into the sink and threw back the first potion. Hot tears started to pour down her face, pooling on the counter as she tossed the wax from a second bottle into the sink. With shaking hands she looked into the mirror. She didn't recognize the person in front of her, she tipped back the second one and let the glass vial break against the counter. The frantic eyes of the stranger in front of her looked toward the counter at the third vial. One too many. She didn't need that, just the darkness, not death.
The room started to swirl with the effects of the potion, the edges of her consciousness. She grabbed the third vial and stumbled on wobbly legs. With a teeter she fell against the wall and slid down it. Her darkness, the suffocating blackness that had forced her into submission in the hospital, beckoned her back into its arms. The room started to fade to black. She heard Hermione and Seamus and Dean still struggling against the uncooperative staircase. Her thready heartbeat slowed, the ache in her chest lessoned, the third vial rolled out of her slack fingers as she lost all the details around her. Her world became shadows and darkness except for the tiny strip of light from then bottom of the bathroom door that burned bright against her failing eyes. Then the door exploded with blinding light as it burst open slowly, as if she were underwater.
"Ginny!" Hermione's terrified voice filled the bathroom as she shimmered into view. "No!"
The shadows all but disappeared as the blackness narrowed to make Hermione just movement in front of her eyes. She felt her fist clench around the sock in her hand and let her eyes slide shut. In that final moment between consciousness and coma, she felt two sets of hands grab her and heard Hermione yell out, though it sounded like it was coming through water,
"How many? How many Ginny?"
And then she was back in Harry's bedroom, the night he had kidnapped her from Hogwarts.
A half smile pulled across his face, without his glasses on, black hair messed across his forehead, he leaned back against the headboard of his bed, and fixed his brilliant green eyes on her. The grey sheets were swimming all around them and he stretched above his head, shirtless, and then said in a scratchy and warm voice,
"I could get used to that, Ginny." He blushed a bit and then leaned forward to kiss her and whispered, "I love you."
"Harry," she felt the word bubble past her numb lips, her fingers released the sock, and she let go.
~*~
"Miss Weasley?"
Ginny kept her eyes shut as the voice fell across her ears. She still had some lingering sleepiness from the double sleeping draught in her system, it was making everything fuzzy and disorienting. Cool hands pressed something onto her forehead and the sound of a quill scratching slowly filtered into her brain.
So she was on the fourth floor again? She should have known. She wondered if they'd let her paint the walls yellow since she'd obviously be staying forever now.
"Miss Weasley?" The voice asked again. She ignored the voice this time and instead tried, desperately, to fall back asleep. She didn't need to be awake anymore anyway. If she had finally cracked up again, and was back in her pink hell on the fourth floor, she'd be happy to just sleep off the next ten years. Maybe a decade from now Harry would be married with children and everyone would have forgotten about her and she could just move on with her life, finally.
"I know you're awake Miss Weasley. So either you are going to open your eyes or I will find a way to open them for you." Jenna ordered. Ginny shot her eyes open, she was quite aware of the sadistic nature of Jenna now.
Her burning eyes took in her surroundings. Vaulted ceiling, castle walls, horribly lumpy cot. She hadn't been sent back to St. Mungo's. She was still at…
"Hogwarts. Yes." Jenna filled in the blanks for her. "I honestly hadn't expected to see you again so soon Miss Weasley."
"That makes two of us." Ginny rasped and took a dry swallow.
"Are you insinuating that you intended to kill yourself by taking sleeping draughts?" Jenna calmly asked.
"No." Ginny exhaled and turned her head to look at the empty infirmary.
"Two draughts you've done quite a few times. It's three that would have been too many. But you knew that, didn't you?" Jenna pulled the slip off her forehead. "Such a shame, green. You were making such progress."
Ginny just continued to look at all the empty cots. Green. Green was probably too sick to go back to all her classes, green was too sick to be Captain. Green was too sick to try out for the Harpies. And in an instant she saw everything she'd worked so hard for, everything she'd slaved over in the last few months vanish like smoke into the air. Her eyes filled with silent tears and she let them fall down her face. She'd lost everything now.
"Miss Weasley," Jenna quietly said and waited until Ginny inclined her head toward her voice. "We have a lot of work to do."
"Work," Ginny let out a thick, tearful laugh. It came out of her chest bitter and mournful. "There's nothing left to do now."
"You don't believe that." Jenna put a hand on her blanketed leg. Ginny looked right into her face and choked out,
"I'm too sick to stay here. I'm too sick to finish school. I'm too sick to try out for the Harpies. My friends are either mad at me or scared of me now. And Harry doesn't love me anymore. There's nothing to work out."
"Who said you were too sick to stay? It wasn't me. On the contrary, I think staying at Hogwarts and finishing up your schooling is exactly what you need to do. I have since the first time I met you." Jenna flicked her wand and Ginny felt her pillows plump as she was slowly moved up into a sitting position. "I also don't see why you'd think you're too sick to try out for the Harpies. You are in tremendously better shape since our check-up."
"They won't want me now, I'm all cracked u…u…p." Ginny stuttered with a shuddering tearful breath.
"Finally, I know for a fact that your friends are neither mad nor scared of you. They set off the chain reaction that alerted your Head of House to report to the Headmistress, who in turn made your mother contact me and created my personal summons to the school. Being angry or frightened by you would hardly warrant that kind of response. It just shows concern and affection." Jenna checked the scroll by her head. "And my check-up with Mr. Potter this afternoon showed him to be in a rather dire state as well. It would appear that this fight did no good for either of you."
"Please, don't." Ginny moaned and put her tearful face into her hands.
"Which is why I informed Mr. Potter that his disruptive presence would not be needed here today after he attempted to storm out of the Headmistresses office and down here to you. Your brother, Ron I believe, barely managed to contain him before they were sent off via portkey." Jenna crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Ginny let her hands drop slowly, her face still puffy with tears, and very cautiously whispered,
"He came?"
"Why did you take two sleeping draughts Miss Weasley?" Jenna asked her point blank.
"I…" she started and then stopped.
"Why did you ask a diary a question?" Jenna asked next and flicked her wand to reveal the blue and gold book.
"I…" she felt her voice cut off in her throat. No one was supposed to find that, it was in the sock, she'd made sure of that before she'd left for class this morning. Jenna flicked her wand a few more times and laid out the diary, the vial, the amulet, and the black jacket down on her bed next to the sock.
"Why were you hiding all these things Miss Weasely?" Jenna looked for a moment at all the objects and then fixed her piercing eyes onto her.
"I don't know." Ginny whispered.
"Lots of work. We have lots of work to do." Jenna nodded and with a flick of her wand all the objects flew back into the sock and into her hand. "But first, you need some more sleep. You are horribly distraught, I dare say near hysterical again. All this action over the past few days has exhausted you, and you need to let your body catch back up."
Ginny nodded once and then bowed her head.
"I will be back tomorrow morning, this draught should last you until then. It's been set for twelve hours exactly. I will be back tomorrow morning at 7AM sharp to start our sessions." Jenna tucked the sock into her robes and flicked her wand at the far door. It slowly opened to reveal her Mum and Dad first, Ron and Hermione quickly after, and then it shut. Jenna put one final reassuring hand on her leg and then moved toward Madame Pomfrey's office.
"Ginny, love?" Her Mum called out to her before she reached the bed first and ran a quick hand over her hair, then pulled her close to land a long kiss on her forehead.
"Mum, I'm so sorry." She managed feeling the tears pick up again.
"It's alright, honey." Her Mum whispered and kissed her again. Her Dad came up next and kissed her temple.
"How are you feeling now?" Her Dad's voice was deep with emotion and she felt a knot of tears contract in her stomach as they raced up her body and out across her already wet face.
"Horrible," she cried and her parent's crushed her closely to them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Jenna's voice called out from the opposite end of the infirmary. "If I could have a word."
"We'll be right back, love." Her Mum murmured into her hair and they let her go to reveal Ron, frowning and red faced and Hermione who seemed to barely be controlling her tears.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry." Ginny sobbed and closed her eyes. Hermione's cold hands quickly landed on her arm and she looked up into her friend's face. "Please forgive me."
"It's okay, Ginny." Hermione nodded, some tears spilled down her face and she grabbed her arm tighter.
"No it's not, and I'm sorry." Ginny cried and then tried to contain herself by sucking in a deep, shaking breath.
"Just don't do that again, alright?" Hermione wiped at her face.
"Alright." Ginny nodded and wiped at her own face. Her eyes landed on Ron who continued to stare at her with his watery blue eyes and flushed cheeks. "Ron?"
"I'm going to strangle him." Ron shook his head, his cheeks turned an angry red and Hermione turned from the both of them, starting to cry again.
"Who?" Ginny asked feeling her chest tighten in anticipation. She knew who, she just didn't want to believe it.
"You know!" Ron exploded. The murmuring of her parents and Jenna in the corner stopped, Hermione let out an audible sob. "You already know how I felt about all this Ginny. I knew he'd break your heart again, and you didn't listen to me! Neither of you did! And now look at what's happened, I'm going to strangle him."
"Ron you don't mean that." She said through her tears, vaguely aware of the adults moving back toward the weeping, angry mess that was forming.
"Like hell I don't!" Ron fumed, Hermione let out another sniffling sob with her back still turned to the both of them.
"You don't mean that, he's your best mate." Ginny ran her sleeve across her face trying to mop up all her tears.
"Don't tell me what I mean and don't mean, Ginny. I can't even look at him right now." Ron moved away from her bed and Ginny felt her heart speed up in her chest her mind clearing of tears to be replaced with a growing fear.
"What do you mean? Did you just leave him there?"
"Of course I did! I get a hysterical Floo call from Hermione, she was sobbing that you were unconscious. I don't even have a moment to react before she just cuts it off and Mum Floos me about needing to go to Hogwarts. Of course Harry overhears this and is gone in an instant. Then a portkey comes shooting through the fireplace because McGonagall summons me to Hogwarts when Harry refuses to leave after Jenna tells him to." He leveled his furious stare at Jenna for a moment. "I had to drag his arse back to the flat, and we landed and just start shoving and yelling at each other. I nearly swung at him before I told him this was all his fucking fault and left him there. Not like I can tell him to clear off in his own bloody house. I went to the Burrow and Mum brought me back with her when Jenna told us you'd be waking up." Ron trembled before her with his barely controlled fury and her stomach flashed with the fear that had been brewing. She pushed up from her reclined position and moved toward him.
"No! No you can't just leave him alone! He needs someone there with him, Ron! You know that!" She felt the tears start back up choking her words as she fought to continue. "He needs you right now."
"Fuck what he needs, he should have thought of that before he made you crack up again." Ron spat out and crossed his arms, bright red with anger. Hermione's whole body shook with tears to the side of her and Ginny fixed her anxious eyes on her parents and Jenna. Her Mum and Dad looked at her with apprehension before she blurted out,
"Mum! Mum you have to go over there. He's going to do something stupid. You know how he gets. Someone has to go over there." She pleaded moving across her bed and grabbing a hold of her mother's sleeve.
"Of course, dear. Of course. I'll go check up on Harry." Her Mum soothed and gave a quick glance at both her Dad and Jenna. Jenna gave Ginny a very peculiar look, something akin to curious dissection.
"It's time Miss Weasley," Jenna held out the vial of sleeping draught and waited until Ginny grabbed onto it. She looked from the still shaking Hermione, to Ron vibrating with anger, and finally to her somewhat shellshocked parents before glancing at Jenna again.
"But…"
"Twelve hours exactly." Jenna gave her a promising smile and with a swish of her wand the seal was broken and Ginny felt a woozy pulse from just the fumes.
"We love you honey." Her Mum blinked away tears as she landed a soft hand on the crown of her head.
"Promise me." Ginny looked deep into her Mother's eyes waiting for the answer. Her Mum gave her a small nod and she tipped back the vial. It hit her stomach and almost immediately took effect. But not before she could hear Jenna's voice lightly echo in her thoughts,
"Lots of work."
~*~
Author's Notes: This chapter would, quite literally, not be here if not for the help of my amazing editor TOW Gunner. I had to write it from scratch, and his patents and encouragement are what made this possible. So should you feel the need...drop him a line, he should be thanked as much as me for this one!