Fragile
The grass felt cool under my bare feet as I walked across my family's garden. It was unusually deserted, but I was glad of this. I flopped down lightly in a sunny patch of grass, and stared idly up at the sky. A cool breeze was the only sound that reached my ears, save for a faint chirping of a bird some ways off. It was unusual to have things so quiet around here, but I reminded myself with a short sigh that this was because most of my family wasn't at home and hadn't been for sometime now.
My father had been gone since the day after we'd all returned for the holidays from Hogwarts, something about Dumbledore's request with something. Percy, Bill and Charlie were all busy with work, and Fred and George were spending the summer with their friend, Lee Jordan. My youngest brother, Ron was up in his room, where he was most days lately. He'd gotten quite a few owls recently, most of which had been from one of his two best friends, Hermione Granger.
A frown crossed my face as I thought about his other best friend, Harry Potter. Harry, from the moment I saw him almost five years ago had won my heart, or so I thought. I'd acted very childish around him, but was slowly improving. But I thought with a shiver, would Harry live to see my true personality? Harry seemed to go through more and more trouble with each passing year at Hogwarts, with the end of last term being the worst so far. The dark lord had Rison to power once again, and this for the moment was all I knew for certain about that night.
I pushed the thoughts and images of Harry appearing out of no where on the grass, bloody and battered, the try-wizard trophy clutched tightly in one hand, Cedric Diggory's lifeless body in the other. That alone had brought tears to my eyes, and just thinking about the horrible things that must've happened to him would probably make me hysterical. I wondered how he was remaining so strong on the outside, but on the inside I imagined he must be breaking down. I wished there was something I could do, but considering I'd barely said two words to him in the three years we've known each other that didn't look like it would be happening anytime soon.
The thing that bothered me the most however was this. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were inseparable. They told each other everything, and I'd gotten most of it from Hermione. Of course there were a few private things that she outright refused to tell me, but since the whole school had seen Harry's unexpected appearance a few weeks before that wasn't classified as "private." But Hermione knew as much as I did and still do about what happened that night. Apparently Harry had refused to tell even them about the things he'd gone through on that night.
Before I'd actually met him, (well if you can call peaking out from behind doors and squealing when he looked at me meeting someone) I'd pictured him very differently then he actually was. He seemed, well he seemed like an actual person. I knew, of course that that was what he was, but still I'd imagined him as… different. Stronger. Better. But he wasn't, he was… just Harry as Ron had put it rather bluntly over dinner after his first year.
"Yeah Harry's great," he'd said while chomping down on a chicken leg.
"But what is he like?" I'd pressed him impatiently.
"What is he like?" He'd repeated. "Well, he… he's just Harry."
But I hadn't known what "just Harry" was like. And I still don't. I doubt that I ever will, but I've come to a conclusion about him over these past few weeks.
He is different from other people. In some senses he's better, but in some he seems… well, he seems fragile. That's just my opinion, which nobody really cares about. But I can't help wondering if Harry knew would he care? Would he agree?
I seriously doubted he would, but still… I watched as a butterfly flew above me, and that's when I realized what my description of Harry was. He was fragile. Fragile like a Butterfly.
Walking inside, I found Ron's owl Pig hopping up and down on the kitchen table, a letter tied to his leg. Though I knew I shouldn't, I untied the letter and unfolded it.
-Dear Ron,
Hi, how are you? Things are okay here. Ron, I know this is a bit sudden, but there's something I haven't told you. Something that I should've told you a long time ago, but I just couldn't. I hope you understand.
Well, I…I'm ready to tell you about what happened during the third task-
I stopped reading after I read that. I wasn't sure I should be reading this. I knew Ron would kill me if he ever found out. But I found that I didn't care. If Ron had been so urgent to read Harry's letter, then why wasn't he down here reading it himself?
Thoughts of my brother pushed aside for a moment, I proceeded to read the rest of Harry's letter.
I read about how the cup had been a portkey, and how it'd taken him and Cedric to an old graveyard. I read about how Voldemort had risen again, I read about how he'd called all his supporters to him, and then I read about the duel. I shivered just reading about how Harry had to fight with the dark lord… I would've never have been able to do that.
As I reached the end of his story, I realized with a jolt that the ink was getting more and more blotchy, and I guessed that Harry had been crying. I just glanced at his last line of writing, 'I'll be at your house at five o'clock on Sunday, thanks for the flew powder.' I was sure now that my description of Harry fitted him. Because no matter what anyone else said, he'd always seem like a butterfly to me. Being strong and fragile at the same time…
"What are you doing!" I gasped in surprised and dropped the letter.
Ron was standing next to me, a look of shock on his face.
"Ginny, that's private!"
"I don't care! If you really cared about it, then you would've been down here reading it yourself!" Tears came to my eyes as I yelled this. "I care about him too you know! I've worried about him ever since the try-wizard tournament! You don't know how lucky you are, do you? You can talk to him whenever you want, but I, I'm just shy little Ginny, Ron's kid sister!"
Ron stared at me, dumbstruck. "I-I do worry about him," he said after a moment. "I worry about him all the bloody time! I-I don't know what to do for him, Ginny. With V…him on the lose… I'm scared, Ginny. I don't want anything bad to happen to him, or you, or Hermione…"
My anger subsided along with his. I reached over and handed him the letter with shaking hands. "I-I'm scared, too." My tears still flowed soundlessly down my face. "We're all scared."
He reached over and hugged me, a gesture that I returned instantly.
Ron sat down at the table and began to read the letter quietly to himself. "He saw his parents?" He sounded as shocked as I'd felt when I'd read that part.
"I know," I breathed, sinking into a chair beside him.
"And Cedric talked to him…" Ron's face had taken on an almost terrified look.
"Ron," I said after a moment. "Is there anyway I can help him?"
He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't know if even Hermione and I can help him this time… I just don't know."
I nodded, and walked quietly up to my room. I pulled something out from under my pillow.
It was a picture of Harry, taken the year before. He'd just won the Quidditch cup, and was beaming at Ron and Hermione, who were a few feet away, and out of the picture. Collin had taken it for me, and it was one of my most treasured possessions.
Harry waved madly up at me, and I smiled weakly back down at him. I tried to remember the last time he'd looked so happy… I couldn't.
"Harry," I whispered, staring into his shining green eyes.
I sighed quietly to myself, and replaced the picture.
Harry would always be just Ron's friend to me, and I was willing to accept that. Just as long as he was happy, I was willing to do anything.
"Ginny?" I looked up to see Ron in the doorway. "If you want, you can use Pig to write Harry a letter."
I stared at him, shocked to see him holding out the small ball of feathers that was his owl. "Thank you." I said softly, going over and taking the fluttering creature from him.
He smiled, and left the room. I went over and sat down at my desk, beginning to write the letter that I'd been wanting to write for the past four years.
[A/N
Well, that was my third HP fic, what'd ya think? I know it was OOC, and I know there are a lot of Ginny helps Harry kinda fics, but I tried to make this one as original as possible. Review, please!
Should I make a sequel? Or would that just be too dorky. I hoped you liked the brother-sister moment their at the end ^_^
L_angel]
The grass felt cool under my bare feet as I walked across my family's garden. It was unusually deserted, but I was glad of this. I flopped down lightly in a sunny patch of grass, and stared idly up at the sky. A cool breeze was the only sound that reached my ears, save for a faint chirping of a bird some ways off. It was unusual to have things so quiet around here, but I reminded myself with a short sigh that this was because most of my family wasn't at home and hadn't been for sometime now.
My father had been gone since the day after we'd all returned for the holidays from Hogwarts, something about Dumbledore's request with something. Percy, Bill and Charlie were all busy with work, and Fred and George were spending the summer with their friend, Lee Jordan. My youngest brother, Ron was up in his room, where he was most days lately. He'd gotten quite a few owls recently, most of which had been from one of his two best friends, Hermione Granger.
A frown crossed my face as I thought about his other best friend, Harry Potter. Harry, from the moment I saw him almost five years ago had won my heart, or so I thought. I'd acted very childish around him, but was slowly improving. But I thought with a shiver, would Harry live to see my true personality? Harry seemed to go through more and more trouble with each passing year at Hogwarts, with the end of last term being the worst so far. The dark lord had Rison to power once again, and this for the moment was all I knew for certain about that night.
I pushed the thoughts and images of Harry appearing out of no where on the grass, bloody and battered, the try-wizard trophy clutched tightly in one hand, Cedric Diggory's lifeless body in the other. That alone had brought tears to my eyes, and just thinking about the horrible things that must've happened to him would probably make me hysterical. I wondered how he was remaining so strong on the outside, but on the inside I imagined he must be breaking down. I wished there was something I could do, but considering I'd barely said two words to him in the three years we've known each other that didn't look like it would be happening anytime soon.
The thing that bothered me the most however was this. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were inseparable. They told each other everything, and I'd gotten most of it from Hermione. Of course there were a few private things that she outright refused to tell me, but since the whole school had seen Harry's unexpected appearance a few weeks before that wasn't classified as "private." But Hermione knew as much as I did and still do about what happened that night. Apparently Harry had refused to tell even them about the things he'd gone through on that night.
Before I'd actually met him, (well if you can call peaking out from behind doors and squealing when he looked at me meeting someone) I'd pictured him very differently then he actually was. He seemed, well he seemed like an actual person. I knew, of course that that was what he was, but still I'd imagined him as… different. Stronger. Better. But he wasn't, he was… just Harry as Ron had put it rather bluntly over dinner after his first year.
"Yeah Harry's great," he'd said while chomping down on a chicken leg.
"But what is he like?" I'd pressed him impatiently.
"What is he like?" He'd repeated. "Well, he… he's just Harry."
But I hadn't known what "just Harry" was like. And I still don't. I doubt that I ever will, but I've come to a conclusion about him over these past few weeks.
He is different from other people. In some senses he's better, but in some he seems… well, he seems fragile. That's just my opinion, which nobody really cares about. But I can't help wondering if Harry knew would he care? Would he agree?
I seriously doubted he would, but still… I watched as a butterfly flew above me, and that's when I realized what my description of Harry was. He was fragile. Fragile like a Butterfly.
Walking inside, I found Ron's owl Pig hopping up and down on the kitchen table, a letter tied to his leg. Though I knew I shouldn't, I untied the letter and unfolded it.
-Dear Ron,
Hi, how are you? Things are okay here. Ron, I know this is a bit sudden, but there's something I haven't told you. Something that I should've told you a long time ago, but I just couldn't. I hope you understand.
Well, I…I'm ready to tell you about what happened during the third task-
I stopped reading after I read that. I wasn't sure I should be reading this. I knew Ron would kill me if he ever found out. But I found that I didn't care. If Ron had been so urgent to read Harry's letter, then why wasn't he down here reading it himself?
Thoughts of my brother pushed aside for a moment, I proceeded to read the rest of Harry's letter.
I read about how the cup had been a portkey, and how it'd taken him and Cedric to an old graveyard. I read about how Voldemort had risen again, I read about how he'd called all his supporters to him, and then I read about the duel. I shivered just reading about how Harry had to fight with the dark lord… I would've never have been able to do that.
As I reached the end of his story, I realized with a jolt that the ink was getting more and more blotchy, and I guessed that Harry had been crying. I just glanced at his last line of writing, 'I'll be at your house at five o'clock on Sunday, thanks for the flew powder.' I was sure now that my description of Harry fitted him. Because no matter what anyone else said, he'd always seem like a butterfly to me. Being strong and fragile at the same time…
"What are you doing!" I gasped in surprised and dropped the letter.
Ron was standing next to me, a look of shock on his face.
"Ginny, that's private!"
"I don't care! If you really cared about it, then you would've been down here reading it yourself!" Tears came to my eyes as I yelled this. "I care about him too you know! I've worried about him ever since the try-wizard tournament! You don't know how lucky you are, do you? You can talk to him whenever you want, but I, I'm just shy little Ginny, Ron's kid sister!"
Ron stared at me, dumbstruck. "I-I do worry about him," he said after a moment. "I worry about him all the bloody time! I-I don't know what to do for him, Ginny. With V…him on the lose… I'm scared, Ginny. I don't want anything bad to happen to him, or you, or Hermione…"
My anger subsided along with his. I reached over and handed him the letter with shaking hands. "I-I'm scared, too." My tears still flowed soundlessly down my face. "We're all scared."
He reached over and hugged me, a gesture that I returned instantly.
Ron sat down at the table and began to read the letter quietly to himself. "He saw his parents?" He sounded as shocked as I'd felt when I'd read that part.
"I know," I breathed, sinking into a chair beside him.
"And Cedric talked to him…" Ron's face had taken on an almost terrified look.
"Ron," I said after a moment. "Is there anyway I can help him?"
He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't know if even Hermione and I can help him this time… I just don't know."
I nodded, and walked quietly up to my room. I pulled something out from under my pillow.
It was a picture of Harry, taken the year before. He'd just won the Quidditch cup, and was beaming at Ron and Hermione, who were a few feet away, and out of the picture. Collin had taken it for me, and it was one of my most treasured possessions.
Harry waved madly up at me, and I smiled weakly back down at him. I tried to remember the last time he'd looked so happy… I couldn't.
"Harry," I whispered, staring into his shining green eyes.
I sighed quietly to myself, and replaced the picture.
Harry would always be just Ron's friend to me, and I was willing to accept that. Just as long as he was happy, I was willing to do anything.
"Ginny?" I looked up to see Ron in the doorway. "If you want, you can use Pig to write Harry a letter."
I stared at him, shocked to see him holding out the small ball of feathers that was his owl. "Thank you." I said softly, going over and taking the fluttering creature from him.
He smiled, and left the room. I went over and sat down at my desk, beginning to write the letter that I'd been wanting to write for the past four years.
[A/N
Well, that was my third HP fic, what'd ya think? I know it was OOC, and I know there are a lot of Ginny helps Harry kinda fics, but I tried to make this one as original as possible. Review, please!
Should I make a sequel? Or would that just be too dorky. I hoped you liked the brother-sister moment their at the end ^_^
L_angel]
