Someone actually read my story...that's so nifty! Anyway, it seems that
there's going to be quite a bit more angst than previously thought...Oh
well. I'm going to be writing and posting nonstop pretty much so I can
finish by at least the day after Christmas...*sigh*
Chapter Five: The Flight (of sorts)
Gryffindor Tower was quiet as Harry climbed back through the portrait hole, and he wondered fleetingly if his friends had simply gone down to breakfast without him. A quiet voice shattered that notion.
"You're back." Ginny Weasley sat curled in one of the plush velvet armchairs near the fireplace.
Harry felt as though he had been delivered a swift kick in the gut. It seemed to happen only when he was around Ginny, he mused sarcastically. Gee, wonder why. "Uh-huh." was all he could think to say, and ran a hand nervously through his hair.
Ginny looked at him with a soft smile. "Hermione and Ron went down to eat."
"And you..."
"I wasn't hungry."
"Ah."
There was a long, tense silence. And Harry took avantage of it. He saw Ginny so rarely these days, purposefully, for the most part. There were fresh tears standing in her eyes but she seemed quite determined to hold them back. Her lower lip trembled violently, and she refused to meet his gaze.
"Ginny..." Harry started. He wanted to tell her so many things. Like how sorry he was, how much he loved her need her, wanted her, he wanted to tell her that he didn't care about Voldemort, only cared about her, and...
Ginny looked at him almost hopefully. "Yea?"
"Er...I'll see you later, all right? I-I've got...erm...a potions...essay." He bit down on his lip and turned to leave.
Ginny slumped back in the chair, silently berating herself. Her heart broke a little more every time she saw Harry anyway, what could it hurt to get her hopes up, right? She waited until she heard his footsteps descending to the 7th year boys dormitory and then let out the dry sob that had been welling up in her. Potions essay. Yeah, right.
Suddenly, the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room was stifling, suffocating. She fled. Out the portrait hole, down the charms corridor, the hallways began to blur together in her distraught mind until she ran directly into someone going the other direction and landed hard on the stone floor. She had a vague notion of green robes and blonde hair before slipping into unconciousness.
Chapter Five: The Flight (of sorts)
Gryffindor Tower was quiet as Harry climbed back through the portrait hole, and he wondered fleetingly if his friends had simply gone down to breakfast without him. A quiet voice shattered that notion.
"You're back." Ginny Weasley sat curled in one of the plush velvet armchairs near the fireplace.
Harry felt as though he had been delivered a swift kick in the gut. It seemed to happen only when he was around Ginny, he mused sarcastically. Gee, wonder why. "Uh-huh." was all he could think to say, and ran a hand nervously through his hair.
Ginny looked at him with a soft smile. "Hermione and Ron went down to eat."
"And you..."
"I wasn't hungry."
"Ah."
There was a long, tense silence. And Harry took avantage of it. He saw Ginny so rarely these days, purposefully, for the most part. There were fresh tears standing in her eyes but she seemed quite determined to hold them back. Her lower lip trembled violently, and she refused to meet his gaze.
"Ginny..." Harry started. He wanted to tell her so many things. Like how sorry he was, how much he loved her need her, wanted her, he wanted to tell her that he didn't care about Voldemort, only cared about her, and...
Ginny looked at him almost hopefully. "Yea?"
"Er...I'll see you later, all right? I-I've got...erm...a potions...essay." He bit down on his lip and turned to leave.
Ginny slumped back in the chair, silently berating herself. Her heart broke a little more every time she saw Harry anyway, what could it hurt to get her hopes up, right? She waited until she heard his footsteps descending to the 7th year boys dormitory and then let out the dry sob that had been welling up in her. Potions essay. Yeah, right.
Suddenly, the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room was stifling, suffocating. She fled. Out the portrait hole, down the charms corridor, the hallways began to blur together in her distraught mind until she ran directly into someone going the other direction and landed hard on the stone floor. She had a vague notion of green robes and blonde hair before slipping into unconciousness.