Chapter Four - Rejection.
Ginny released herself from Harry's grip and took a step back. She stared at him with mingled shock and something that looked remarkably like horror. Harry's heart sank horribly. He'd waited for what seemed like forever to tell Ginny he loved her and the expression on her face gave him the ominous feeling he was in for a huge emotional blow. Ginny took another step back, her mouth slightly open with disbelief. Harry couldn't stand the silence.
"I'm sorry, did…did I say something wrong?" he stammered quickly.
"Harry…" Ginny began weakly, finally finding her voice. "Harry…I…I thought we were friends…"
"We are friends," Harry said quickly.
"But…but you just said…" there was a whine in Ginny's voice, as though she was pleading for him to take it back. "Harry…"
There was a long pause as Ginny struggled to get the words out, while Harry bit his lip, struggling to keep his words in. Eventually, he burst out, "But what about before? In your first year, even last year…? Didn't you…?"
"Oh, I USED to love you," said Ginny. "Oh, I loved you for ages. I loved you for three and a half years, but, really, what were the chances you'd ever love me back? I was always just Ron's little sister to you. Yeah, I hoped, I dreamed, but how long can you wait for someone you know you've got no chance with?"
Harry stared at the grass at his feet. Ginny's words made too much sense. How could he have been so stupid? Ginny was a big girl now; she was a beautiful fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old with a LOT going for her, she'd have the sense to drop her fantasies and go for something mutual and real instead. How could he have expected her to wait for him after all this time?
"So you don't feel anything for me now?" Harry muttered gloomily.
"No. Nothing," said Ginny definitely. "You're a good Seeker and a good Captain and even a good flying teacher, but I don't even…" she broke off suddenly as her expression changed to what looked like pained realization. "That's why you did it, isn't it?"
Harry looked up. "Did what?"
"That's why you let me join the team, because you thought you'd stand a better chance with me, isn't it?" Ginny whispered in disbelief. "You didn't care about Gryffindor or anything. You didn't pick me because I was good at Quidditch, you picked me because you…"
"No! I didn't!" Harry cried desperately. "You're brilliant at Quidditch, you won us the match today!"
"Yeah, but you weren't to know that when you took me on!" Ginny snapped. "All you cared about was yourself! I thought you were different, Harry!"
Harry's nerves and tear ducts were beginning to sag. "I love you, what more d'you want me to say?"
Ginny grabbed her Cleansweep and flung it at the Whomping Willow, which stood only metres away and within seconds it was reduced to matchsticks.
"I quit!" Ginny declared, tears beginning to leak down her cheeks. "Go find yourself another Keeper."
Then she buried her face in her hands and ran up to the castle, crying.
Harry stared after her, numb with shock and disbelief and weak with the excruciating pain in his heart, which felt like it had been viciously slashed with a knife. He couldn't believe it. All the dreams, all the fantasies, all the smiles, everything he felt he lived for since Ginny entered the Gryffindor changing rooms for the first time, it was all gone. All wasted because he was stupid enough to let her go when she loved him. A soft drizzle began to fall, weighing his Quidditch robes down, like his heart. He grabbed his Firebolt and kicked off the ground. He had no idea where he was going, what he was doing, he just flew blindly as far as he could from the castle. He suddenly found himself wondering if the life-sentence in Azkaban applied to the use of an Unforgivable Curse on yourself. How long and how far he flew, he neither knew nor cared as he landed on top of a lonely, bleak mountaintop. Bullet-like raindrop beat down on him as he sat in the sodden shrubbery, with his face in his arms. He knew he was extremely vulnerable, knew that outside the Hogwarts grounds, Voldemort could come swooping down on him at any moment and reunite him with his parents and Cedric, but he found he didn't really care. Eventually, exhausted from his flight and the stabbing in his heart at an unbearable peak, he cried himself to sleep.
Harry was in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing when he woke up. The howling wind and the merciless rain pounded furiously at the windows, which made him feel very glad of the warm fluffy white quilts and sheets he found himself tucked in. Reaching for his glasses, memories of Ginny's reaction to the exposure of his feelings and the state and location in which he blacked out came flooding back into his confused and very sore head. As he glanced around at the empty Hospital Wing,a door at the far end of room opened and Madame Pomfrey walked over to him with a tray holding a bottle of some thick white liquid and a small goblet.
"What am I…?" Harry began, but Madame Pomfrey, who was pouring the medicine into the goblet cut him across.
"Bad case of pneumonia," she said, handing him the goblet. "That was a fine mess, you got yourself into. The Evening Prophet reported you missing on the day of your Quidditch match, three days ago; we all thought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had caught up with you. Professor Dumbledore had all the teachers searching for you. He found you lying unconscious on a cliff two days ago, weak and with terrible pneumonia, brought you here…even I wasn't sure you were alive…"
Harry drank his potion in silence.
"You've had a fair few visitors," Madame Pomfrey went on. "Your friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore of course…. young Miss Weasley…"
Harry jumped and stared at her. "Ginny's been here?"
"Every single break-time," said Madame Pomfrey, taking the empty goblet and placing it back on the tray.
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this. He didn't want to get his hopes up, he'd taken too much disappointment to be able to face any more. He snuggled up under his thick quilt and removed his glasses.
"I shall inform Professor Dumbledore of your condition," said Madame Pomfrey.
"Will you tell Gi…I mean, Ron and Hermione, too?" Harry asked quickly.
Madame Pomfrey smiled at him as she left the room.
"Of course, dear."
A/N Flimsy ending, I know. Just let me get the next bit up. Oh, and PLEASE review, and thanks soooo
Much to everyone who did!
Ginny released herself from Harry's grip and took a step back. She stared at him with mingled shock and something that looked remarkably like horror. Harry's heart sank horribly. He'd waited for what seemed like forever to tell Ginny he loved her and the expression on her face gave him the ominous feeling he was in for a huge emotional blow. Ginny took another step back, her mouth slightly open with disbelief. Harry couldn't stand the silence.
"I'm sorry, did…did I say something wrong?" he stammered quickly.
"Harry…" Ginny began weakly, finally finding her voice. "Harry…I…I thought we were friends…"
"We are friends," Harry said quickly.
"But…but you just said…" there was a whine in Ginny's voice, as though she was pleading for him to take it back. "Harry…"
There was a long pause as Ginny struggled to get the words out, while Harry bit his lip, struggling to keep his words in. Eventually, he burst out, "But what about before? In your first year, even last year…? Didn't you…?"
"Oh, I USED to love you," said Ginny. "Oh, I loved you for ages. I loved you for three and a half years, but, really, what were the chances you'd ever love me back? I was always just Ron's little sister to you. Yeah, I hoped, I dreamed, but how long can you wait for someone you know you've got no chance with?"
Harry stared at the grass at his feet. Ginny's words made too much sense. How could he have been so stupid? Ginny was a big girl now; she was a beautiful fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old with a LOT going for her, she'd have the sense to drop her fantasies and go for something mutual and real instead. How could he have expected her to wait for him after all this time?
"So you don't feel anything for me now?" Harry muttered gloomily.
"No. Nothing," said Ginny definitely. "You're a good Seeker and a good Captain and even a good flying teacher, but I don't even…" she broke off suddenly as her expression changed to what looked like pained realization. "That's why you did it, isn't it?"
Harry looked up. "Did what?"
"That's why you let me join the team, because you thought you'd stand a better chance with me, isn't it?" Ginny whispered in disbelief. "You didn't care about Gryffindor or anything. You didn't pick me because I was good at Quidditch, you picked me because you…"
"No! I didn't!" Harry cried desperately. "You're brilliant at Quidditch, you won us the match today!"
"Yeah, but you weren't to know that when you took me on!" Ginny snapped. "All you cared about was yourself! I thought you were different, Harry!"
Harry's nerves and tear ducts were beginning to sag. "I love you, what more d'you want me to say?"
Ginny grabbed her Cleansweep and flung it at the Whomping Willow, which stood only metres away and within seconds it was reduced to matchsticks.
"I quit!" Ginny declared, tears beginning to leak down her cheeks. "Go find yourself another Keeper."
Then she buried her face in her hands and ran up to the castle, crying.
Harry stared after her, numb with shock and disbelief and weak with the excruciating pain in his heart, which felt like it had been viciously slashed with a knife. He couldn't believe it. All the dreams, all the fantasies, all the smiles, everything he felt he lived for since Ginny entered the Gryffindor changing rooms for the first time, it was all gone. All wasted because he was stupid enough to let her go when she loved him. A soft drizzle began to fall, weighing his Quidditch robes down, like his heart. He grabbed his Firebolt and kicked off the ground. He had no idea where he was going, what he was doing, he just flew blindly as far as he could from the castle. He suddenly found himself wondering if the life-sentence in Azkaban applied to the use of an Unforgivable Curse on yourself. How long and how far he flew, he neither knew nor cared as he landed on top of a lonely, bleak mountaintop. Bullet-like raindrop beat down on him as he sat in the sodden shrubbery, with his face in his arms. He knew he was extremely vulnerable, knew that outside the Hogwarts grounds, Voldemort could come swooping down on him at any moment and reunite him with his parents and Cedric, but he found he didn't really care. Eventually, exhausted from his flight and the stabbing in his heart at an unbearable peak, he cried himself to sleep.
Harry was in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing when he woke up. The howling wind and the merciless rain pounded furiously at the windows, which made him feel very glad of the warm fluffy white quilts and sheets he found himself tucked in. Reaching for his glasses, memories of Ginny's reaction to the exposure of his feelings and the state and location in which he blacked out came flooding back into his confused and very sore head. As he glanced around at the empty Hospital Wing,a door at the far end of room opened and Madame Pomfrey walked over to him with a tray holding a bottle of some thick white liquid and a small goblet.
"What am I…?" Harry began, but Madame Pomfrey, who was pouring the medicine into the goblet cut him across.
"Bad case of pneumonia," she said, handing him the goblet. "That was a fine mess, you got yourself into. The Evening Prophet reported you missing on the day of your Quidditch match, three days ago; we all thought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had caught up with you. Professor Dumbledore had all the teachers searching for you. He found you lying unconscious on a cliff two days ago, weak and with terrible pneumonia, brought you here…even I wasn't sure you were alive…"
Harry drank his potion in silence.
"You've had a fair few visitors," Madame Pomfrey went on. "Your friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore of course…. young Miss Weasley…"
Harry jumped and stared at her. "Ginny's been here?"
"Every single break-time," said Madame Pomfrey, taking the empty goblet and placing it back on the tray.
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this. He didn't want to get his hopes up, he'd taken too much disappointment to be able to face any more. He snuggled up under his thick quilt and removed his glasses.
"I shall inform Professor Dumbledore of your condition," said Madame Pomfrey.
"Will you tell Gi…I mean, Ron and Hermione, too?" Harry asked quickly.
Madame Pomfrey smiled at him as she left the room.
"Of course, dear."
A/N Flimsy ending, I know. Just let me get the next bit up. Oh, and PLEASE review, and thanks soooo
Much to everyone who did!
