VI.

Ginny's Secret

Five minutes dragged by.  They were the longest five minutes of Ginny's life.  She wanted to pace, but Sirius was already doing so and was he taking up most of the corridor.  She wanted to be by Harry's side, but she knew that was impossible right now.  She wanted – she wanted that door to open and she wanted to see Harry on the other side, smiling at them all.  Recognising.  Greeting.  Remembering…

It was her ultimate fantasy these days.  Her deepest wish.

That he would remember

The door opened.  Everyone's heads snapped up, their gazes fixed intently on the widening arc of the opening door.

Ron stepped out, and the expression on his face told them all they needed to know.

A quiet sigh of bitter disappointment whispered through them as everyone released the breaths they had been holding.

"I thought of the moment when he won the match against Slytherin for us, back in third year," he said dully, "He was really happy then.  I think it meant a lot to him… but it didn't work.  Sirius, you want to try next?"

Sirius's pacing had halted the moment Ron had emerged.  Now he nodded apprehensively, hesitated, then strode forward, closing the door behind him.

Silence fell once more.  Ginny turned her face away and closed her eyes.

Ron had failed.

Harry was still lost to her.

How could it possibly hurt this much, even after so long?

She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or wistful about the fact that no one was aware of how deep her pain truly ran.  They all thought she had gotten over her little first year crush years ago. 

In a way, that was true.  She had grown out her crush – long since.  She had gotten over the silliness of blushing, giggling, and drawing love hearts in the margins of her books.  She had lost interest in the Boy Who Lived.  And instead, she had discovered Harry James Potter.  An ordinary, fallible guy with messy hair and glasses.  A guy who was clueless and vulnerable, but brave and good.  A friend.  And that was when she fell out her crush - and fell in love.

It was a different feeling to anything she had felt before.  For one thing, it was easier to hide.  Instead of an irrepressible and awkward infatuation, she now nursed a quiet, dark, bittersweet secret that she had carried deep inside her for almost seven years. 

Perhaps some of her family still suspected that she had feelings for Harry.  She was fairly certain her mother did, and Hermione too.  They both possessed keen intuition, and it was difficult to hide these things from other women.  But no one knew for sure what she really felt - she'd learned from her past mistakes, and made sure of that.

And it was certain that not one of them, not even Hermione, had suspected her most closely guarded secret of all…  The secret that was now tearing her apart. 

Should she say something?  Should she stay silent?  Did she dare to even consider that her most precious memory had meant as much to him as it had to her?  How would she live with herself if she were wrong?  And how would she live if she said nothing, and all the others failed…?

The door opened again, and this time Ginny jumped, startled.  She had been so deep in thought that the time had seemed to pass twice as quickly as before.

She looked into Sirius's face, and felt the miserable ball of despair and indecision tighten in her stomach.

He had failed too.

He didn't say anything.  He just gestured to Hermione, ashen faced.

Hermione looked like she was about to faint.  She knew she was their last hope but her mind was going to pieces - she scarcely knew which memory she should use.  She loved Harry like the brother she'd never had, but …

She felt everyone's eyes upon her and forced herself to step forward, toward the open doorway.

"Wait!"

A harsh, desperate cry from behind brought her to an abrupt halt.  She turned to see Ginny standing a few feet away, her face pale and drawn, her eyes bright with tortured intensity.

"Let – let me try.  Please."

There was a long, awkward pause.  In the end, Ron was the only one with the courage to break the terrible silence. 

"Uh, Gin," he said softly, his expression slightly contorted by a strange combination of gentleness and pain, "You know it has to mean something to him … not – not just to you."

Ginny swallowed hard, and waves of colour washed over her skin as humiliation and fear crippled her.  They all thought she was just some sad little child mooning pathetically after a boy who was never going to give her a second glance.  It was the reaction she had expected, but it still hurt.  Oh, how it hurt.  And perhaps they were right.  Perhaps she was pathetic.  Perhaps she was wrong to put herself forward now, to impose herself and her delusions on such a crucial moment.

But then, they didn't know what she knew.  They didn't know that once, just once, there had been a moment when he had looked twice…

She couldn't meet anyone's gaze.  She knew what she would see there: Pity.  Resignation.  Concern.  Guilt.  She couldn't deal with any of that.  Instead, she lifted her chin, looking at no one, and steeled her resolve. 

This was what it meant to be in Gryffindor, she realised.  These next few words were going to be the hardest of her life, but she was going to speak them.  And then she was going to have to deal with the consequences.

"I know that," she said, her voice surprisingly steady now.  "I still want to try."

There was another long pause as ten sober faces considered her.  Then Hermione stepped back from the doorway, giving Ginny free access.

"Good luck, Ginny," she said softly.

Ginny risked a glance at Hermione's face.  To her astonishment, she saw there were tears in her friend's eyes, but she was smiling slightly.  Then Ron moved into her field of vision, and put his hands on Hermione's shoulders.  His mouth quirked into a tight half-smile.

"Yeah, Gin," he echoed, "Good luck."

Ginny had never felt more like hugging anyone in her whole life.  But circumstances being as they were, she settled for sending them both a trembling smile of gratitude.

Then she turned to the doorway, swallowed dryly… and stepped through.