Harry sat listlessly in Gryffindor common room, slouched in an armchair and staring into the fire. A few people had given him rather odd looks when passing by, but no one had stopped to talk, and he was grateful. He needed to think about the problem that was Ginny. Harry couldn't figure out why she didn't just drop Malfoy and be done with it. They clearly weren't happy when they were together, as Harry had found out with the help of his Invisibility Cloak: Malfoy would stare at nothing in particular, though it was easy to see his mind was somewhere else than whatever it was he was looking at, and Ginny would stammer and look uncomfortable and try (and fail) to start conversations. The few rare times they did talk for more than five minutes was to argue. Harry shook his head, partly in confusion, partly in anger, and for lack of anything better to do, glanced over at the portrait hole as it swung open.
Ginny herself climbed in, and Harry quickly turned away, trying to appear as though there was something interesting in the fireplace. He could sense Ginny walk behind him towards the staircase, then hesitate. She moved towards him, and dropped his scarf in his lap.
Thank you, she said quickly, not meeting his eyes, and hurried up to her dormitory.
Harry said, a bit late because he was startled that she hadn't snapped at him. He picked the scarf up, and could detect Ginny's scent on it, citrusy and fresh. Thinking of her made him frustrated again, and he began to wonder if it was time to re-enlist Hermione.
She was in the library, occupying a whole table with large, heavy books and scrolls of parchment.
Oh, hello, she said when Harry sat down across from her. I'm afraid I don't have time to talk, I'm working on that Potions essay. I've left it a bit late, and--
It's not due for two weeks! Harry said, staring at the table, or rather the books on the table, in shock.
I know that, Hermione said impatiently, flipping through the dusty pages of Bewitch the Mind and Ensnare the Senses: Advanced Potions. But next week I have to write the Transfiguration paper, and after that there's the Herbology test, so I want to get this done. She didn't actually say, So go away, but she might as well have.
Well, I'll see you later then, Harry said dejectedly, rising to his feet. Where's Ron?
Haven't seen him, Hermione replied, now scribbling notes on a piece of parchment. Harry left, and began wandering an aimless pathway through the corridors. When he realized, somewhere near the trophy room, that he must look pretty stupid, he decided to go back to the common room and see who else was there. As he passed an empty classroom, he heard voices coming from inside, and pressed his ear to the door to see who it was.
You fool, a cold voice said. I will not give her up now. We're almost through with this!
B-but she doesn't like you any more, another person stammered. Wouldn't it be easier to just-
the first one commanded. Lowering his voice, he continued: If this is going to work at all, it will have to be done my way. Once he is out of the way, we'll just have to take care of that old idiot of a professor, and then there will be no one left to challenge us.
He has many friends, though, the second replied hesitantly. They will all want revenge, and there are so few of us. How will we be able to-
Don't worry about them, the other said dismissively. They present no problem at all. Just follow me and everything will be fine.
The conversation sounded finished, and Harry sprinted down the hallway and around the corner, not wanting whoever had been in there to see him. He bent over to catch his breath. Whatever they had been talking about sounded serious. The first voice, the colder one, had reminded him of someone. But who? He racked his mind, trying to think of who it could be, when suddenly . . .
Harry? What are you doing?
Ron was standing in front of him, wearing his Quidditch robes and a confused expression.
Oh, I was just . . . er . . . Harry tried to think of a plausible explanation for being bent double in the third-floor corridor, and whether or not he should tell Ron what he had just heard. I was . . . thinking.
Ron repeated skeptically. About what?
A conversation I overheard, Harry said offhandedly. He began walking in the direction of Gryffindor house. Want a game of chess?
After I change out of these, Ron answered, tugging at his robes. But why were you thinking about a conversation while leaning against the wall near the trophy room?
Because I had nothing better to do? Harry replied. Ron looked at him strangely, but said nothing.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, Ginny received a note from Malfoy at breakfast:
Ginny - Meet me by the lake as soon as you can.
She sighed. Today was the day. She was going to get rid of him--her sanity depended on it. She noticed him rise and leave the room, and in a few minutes, she made excuses and hurried outside. On the way down to the lake, she took several deep, nervous breaths, trying to calm herself. It didn't help. As long as he doesn't try to put a spell on me again, I'll be fine, she told herself. What do I have to worry about? It's just Malfoy. She sighed again, and stepped into the little clearing. Malfoy was sitting with his back against a tree, and he looked up as she crunched on a twig.
Sit down, he said lazily, indicating the snowy ground next to him with a sweep of his hand.
I'd rather not, Ginny told him nervously. She took a deep breath. I have to talk to you about something.
So talk, he said, after giving her a harsh glare.
I think . . . um . . . Ginny began. This was harder than she had thought. She couldn't help feeling intimidated by him. I think that . . . it's going to snow again. What was that? she thought in disgust, as he looked at her in mild surprise.
And why is that so important? he asked, sneering slightly.
Oh, how she hated him! He was always so disrespectful, so utterly revolting. She was grateful that she had the excuse of the Persuasive Charm to explain away her original trust in him.
Are you going to say anything? he said impatiently, watching her as she stared at him angrily.
I hate you, she found herself saying, and something broke somewhere deep inside her. A torrent of angry words rushed out, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. You never listen to me, you don't care about me, you put me under a spell so I'd like you! You lied to me about Harry, you lied to me about Hermione, and you lied to me about myself! That stupid spell finally wore off, and you know what I realized? I never liked you at all! Not one bit! I am never talking to you again! We . . . are . . . through! She hissed the last words at him and left, running back up to the castle, crunching in the snow.
Ginny couldn't believe how free she felt. She wouldn't have been surprised if she had started floating; it was as if she had had a heavy burden on her for a long time, and it was finally gone. I really need to speak my mind more often, she muttered to herself, bursting through the castle doors. People exiting Great Hall looked at her strangely, but she found that she didn't care what they thought at all. She was done with him. She was done with being manipulated by people. From now on, she was living her life the way she wanted to.
And that meant finding Harry.
