Question: Um... Where is Draco?

Answer: Yeah. Er. Sorry about that. You'll all understand later why he's one of the main characters. He doesn't make an appearance until Chapter 5 (next chapter, and it's a good one), and then only briefly and not again until Chapter 9, but after that he'll be showing up more and more frequently. I think he gets maybe seventeen, eighteen chapters out of fifty, which is a big deal considering I tried to change POVs every chapter. It's about a third of the fic. He totally took over my writing.

The song for this chapter (can you tell yet I like songs when I'm writing?) is Maybe Someday by The Cure. Not as heart-wrenching as Westlife's in the last chapter, but you can't compare this and that. Maybe Someday is more powerful and underlines how difficult but necessary Ginny's decision is.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling, you rock. Harry Potter is yours.

Chapter 4

Maybe Someday

2nd June, 1998

Harry was outside in the garden, sitting in the shade of a tree, propped up against the trunk. A red-and-black chequered cloth lay in the grass in front of him, and Ron was sprawled on the other side of it. Chess was the one thing that kept Ron's thoughts from running too dark, so Harry willingly let himself be drawn into game after game, even though he always lost. He had even introduced Ron to Muggle chess, which they were now playing. Ron had found it boring at first, but he had to admit that simply unfolding the cloth was more practical than dragging his precious (and heavy) chess set down the stairs.

Ron said something, and Harry laughed. Her heart tightened painfully in her chest, and she set down the plate she'd set out to clean. She hoisted herself onto the kitchen counter, kicked her feet up beside her, and drew closer to the window, watching him. The laugh lightened his features. He was beautiful, as beautiful as he had always been. After a year on the run, he had returned to her thinner, taller, and older. She hadn't minded, just as he hadn't minded those same changes in her. What mattered was that he had returned. He was alive. And he loved her. Or so he had said. But...

There was no longer a point to their relationship.

The problem, she thought, was Harry's terrible timing. She had spent six years waiting for him to notice her. When he finally had, he had had to leave. And when he came back, everything was different.

They had given it a try because they both still felt something. They had been trying for a month now, and the results had been catastrophic. She couldn't tell whether Harry genuinely couldn't see it or was trying to ignore it. She didn't know which situation would be more worrying. Either way, there was no way around the fact that they hadn't kissed once since the Final Battle, as they were calling it, or that they never really spoke. Harry would whisper sweet nothings, void of meaning in their situation, and would stroke her hair in a way that made her feel about as cherished as a pet dog. She would spend minutes staring into his eyes. Beyond a few furtive touches and senseless words... nothing. And they both knew why.

She couldn't stop thinking about Fred. Being happy right now was unimaginable. And Harry... Harry couldn't stop thinking about anything. He would start to say something, then stop and stare into nothing, suddenly distant, lost in thought. And it was never a good thought. So many years after meeting him, she had finally found something she hated about Harry Potter. She had always admired his way of taking responsibility for everything, but that had been because he accepted things head on. This was going too far. He was blaming himself for everything. It was a miracle that he had even managed a laugh – unless he was faking it for Ron's benefit.

"Ginny?" Hermione's voice said softly from behind her.

It made her jump, and she banged her head on the cupboard above her.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, rushing forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't think –"

"I'm all right," Ginny said, forcing a laugh through the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

She raised a hand to rub the back of her head.

"I'll live. It's not like there's anything worth much up there anyway."

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione said, her tone unusually compassionate for something this trivial.

Ginny caught her quick glance out the window and felt her heart drop. She had never underestimated her friend's perceptiveness: Hermione knew. She closed her eyes and looked away, feeling – inexplicably – ashamed.

"Ginny," Hermione said again, putting an arm around her friend as though to hug her. "It's all right."

"It isn't."

"Well, maybe it isn't," Hermione admitted, and Ginny smiled despite herself. "But it isn't the end of the world."

She looked at her friend in askance, as though Ginny's problem might actually be of apocalyptic relevance, and Ginny shook her head.

"You know, it hasn't been easy with Ron lately, either. It's normal, Ginny. We're all somewhat shaken up."

Ginny shook her head again, more vehemently this time. "It's isn't like that," she said. "He's not... 'shaken up.' I mean, I know Ron and I – my entire family – are 'shaken up.' But Harry isn't. He's changed. Sometimes it feels like the life has been sucked out of him. Just being with him reminds me of things I don't want to think of." She looked up suddenly. "I know that sounds terribly selfish, but –"

"It doesn't," Hermione said gently. "I think I know what you mean. Look, Ginny, you don't have to go through this. You shouldn't have to hurt like this."

"You mean I should break up with him," Ginny said flatly.

"If that's what you think it would take."

"But I don't want to," Ginny said desperately. "I love him, you know I do. I've wanted to have him for so long and now that he's finally mine, he – " she felt her throat tighten, but she wouldn't cry, she almost never cried – "he's not the same person. But I don't want it to be over. I want to have him back the way he was." The tears were threatening to spill over. "I just want him back," she said, very quietly.

"That's all right." Hermione took one of her hands in hers. "It's normal. We'll bring him back, I promise."

Ginny nodded but didn't say anything. Her throat was too constricted for the words to get out, but Hermione knew.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's going to be okay, Ginny, I promise."

Were they still talking about Harry?

"Lost again, have you, Harry?" Hermione teased as the two boys came in from their chess game. "I can tell from the look on your face."

The look, as she said, was a mad grin that spread from ear to ear and even lit up his eyes. Ginny couldn't see how it might reflect defeat, but she was jealous of Ron for inspiring it in Harry.

"Or from the fact that I've never won a single game against Ron," Harry said, laughing. "You should try someday. I'm sure you'd be better than me – though Ron will tell you that isn't saying much."

"Maybe, but I think I'll avoid the aftermath," Hermione said, eyeing their grass-stained clothing. "How did you manage to do that?"

The boys looked sheepish.

"All right, forget it. I don't want to know. You've got mud on your nose, Ronald."

Ron reached up to wipe it off, grinning stupidly – and so sincerely that Ginny felt that pang in her heart again. Was she always going to hurt, now, when someone else was happy? How could she be so despicable?

Why was it that she was never the one to bring out that kind of smile?

"Ginny," Ron said, as though only just noticing her. "Hey, I was wondering. Would you have a pair of Extendable Ears left? Harry and I just thought of something – a sort of prank to play on Crookshanks –"

"Touch that cat and I'll have your hide, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said warningly.

The boys cracked up again, although Harry looked vaguely worried.

This was it. The light, innocent banter exchanged between friends who had been through everything together, best friends. The thing that Ginny couldn't do. Hermione was too close to the boys, Ron was a boy, and Harry had left her tongue-tied for the majority of her Hogwarts years. This was something she could never have with Harry. It was beyond her imagination. She couldn't figure out how these three, who had seen so much and had suffered so much, could still laugh and tease as though nothing had happened – but only between themselves, because Harry's thoughts ran as dark as night-time when he was with her.

Hermione seemed to notice her distress – it was probably a girl thing, or maybe just a Hermione thing – and she managed to usher Ron out of the kitchen quickly enough, closing the door behind them. Leaving Ginny alone with Harry.

Who sat down at the table across from her and said, "We need to talk."

Ginny nodded mutely.

Harry reached out across the table and laced his fingers through hers, and Ginny tried not to flinch at the touch. It wasn't what she had been expecting, for a break-up scene, but Harry had always been gentle with her.

"Ginny," he said softly. "Are you okay? You seem... preoccupied, lately."

She smiled at him because she couldn't help it – she had never been able to help it. "I'm fine."

"What were you thinking of just now?"

She flinched then, and he immediately back-pedalled.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said quickly. "I was just –"

"Just asking," she completed. "You didn't really want to hear the answer. You were being polite, like you're supposed to be with a great-great-aunt or something."

"What?" Harry looked genuinely perplexed, and she almost regretted her words.

"That's what I was thinking about, Harry. How we don't act like a couple. We don't even act like friends. It's like we're complete strangers being forced to be nice to each other."

There was a long, pregnant pause.

"That's hardly fair, Ginny."

"Isn't it true?"

He shook his head helplessly. "It's difficult for me, Ginny. I'm sorry it's not exactly like before... like it was, that year... but I can't help it. I'm trying. You know I am, don't you?"

She met his piercing green gaze, trying to find strength in them. "I know."

"We can work it out," he said. "I know we can. It might take time, but –"

"I can't, Harry. I can't make it work. I keep trying, but you won't let me."

"Ginny –"

"Don't try to hold me back, Harry. I've been thinking about this for days. It's over. We're over. You can't –" her voice caught – "You can't handle the stress of a relationship right now. Maybe later you'll be able to, but right now you can't. And I don't blame you for it. Maybe I'm not ready, either. All I know is it's not working between us."

He looked away, and she knew the sadness in his voice wasn't feigned. "We used to be so good together."

"Maybe someday we can have that again," she said.

I'm sorry nothing is going right for the moment. I don't mean for this to be a depressing read. The point is, so soon after the war, everyone is broken. I really wanted to illustrate that in the opening chapters. Please tell me what you think.

Oh right, and if there are British people out there, don't hesitate to cringe at my English and tell me what's wrong.