Anyway, I'd also like to thank my reviewers oO WTH, gibson girl, Sache, Fredrick, and Razberry. Okay, now enjoy.
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Chapter Eight
Footsteps in the Dark
"She came by last night," said Ginny in a hushed voice. Harry knitted his brow.
"Who came by?" he inquired.
"Rebecca," she answered. "She came by last night."
"Oh, Becky."
Ginny glanced around the hospital wing to see if Madame Pomfrey was still nearby to see that she was, treating some of her cold or flu patients. Sighing inwardly, she mentioned her other visitor.
"Ron came by, too." She almost laughed out loud at Harry's aghast face as he stared at her.
"Ron?" he said in awe.
She nodded fervently. "I know; I was surprised, too."
"What did he say?"
"Erm..." said Ginny, looking away briefly and holding back a blush. "Not much, actually," she said.
"Nothing bad?"
Appearing to take this into thought for a few minutes, she shook her head. "Not really. He said he was glad I was okay, and got onto me about accusing him of...dating Hermione."
Harry huffed derisively. "They are dating," he scoffed.
"That's what I said," she agreed, vaguely braiding and unbraiding the same strand of hair, as she'd been doing most of the day with boredom.
"Exactly," said Harry, glad he wasn't the one who thought so. "As much as I'd rather not interfere or, um, know, I kind of wish they'd stop skirting the issue and get to the point, so...I've been trying to leave them to...well, themselves."
Ginny assuaged abruptly, her fingers refraining from her braiding. Like most girls - again, in general - she had a gift for hearing things and putting them into her own meaning. But really, a voice in the back of her head reasoned, this couldn't mean what she thought it meant.
Harry was hanging out with her so that Ron and Hermione could have some "alone time." Nothing more, nothing less. Or maybe they weren't really paying attention to him in the first place, and he looked elsewhere for company. But unlike other girls, if she was basically getting what she wanted, she tried not to complain, as she had learned years ago in her family.
Translation, why was she complaining?
Harry seemed to notice her sudden lack of motion, he glanced at her. "Ginny?" he asked uncertainly. Coming back to reality, she looked up at him at the sound of her name.
"Hmm?"
"You alright there?" He looked at her carefully. With a small smile, she nodded.
"Actually," she said after a second, "Madame Pomfrey said I should be out later today or tomorrow."
Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?"
She nodded again. "I told you: Weasleys are immune to practically everything. And that blasted Bubotubor pus just came in this morning..." she added, rubbing her cheek.
A smile slowly formed across his face. "Do you know what day it is?" he asked, not moving his glance. She crinkled her forehead in confusion and shook her head slowly.
"Today," he said, as if making a big announcement, "is the twenty-third of December."
With somewhat of a gasp, she stared at him, dumbstruck. Already?
"Wow," she said in awe.
His grin broadened. "I know. You're just in time," he said brightly. "So I don't have to spend the evening moping with Ron."
A bustling Madame Pomfrey, who cleared her throat loudly to silence them, interrupted their brief bought of laughter. Smiling, they exchanged glances for a long moment. Without much warning, the feelings she usually got when she looked into his eyes came over her.
She couldn't breathe.
Again, Harry was the first to break the silence.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said in a mumble, almost incoherent.
"Okay," she said quietly in response.
He smiled softly and lingered for a few more moments - to reach up and gently ruffle her hair. Her jaw dropped in indignation as she vainly straightened out her hair. Upon clearing the strands of scarlet from her eyes, she saw Harry as he was closing the door. Their gazes met again.
And he stuck her tongue out at her. She glared back.
But after the door had closed and they were both on their own sides, both were smiling broadly.
Okay, so maybe he does like hanging out with me after all.
"How long do I have to wear this cast?" Ginny asked the nurse later that day, waving her hand slightly. "Why am I wearing it? I thought you could just use your wand to --"
"That's already done," assured Madame Pomfrey. "And that's not a cast. It's just a lot of bandages..."
Ginny's eyebrows rose and she looked at her hand in wonder. "Ouch. How exactly did I injure myself in the first place?"
"Well, let's see... When you fainted, you hit your head on that nightstand by Daphne's bed...and broken bones caused the wounds on your hand. You just got those when you actually hit the ground."
"Oh," said Ginny with a nod. "Ouch."
For a moment, she studied the nurse, who had seemed a bit fidgety for the past few hours since she'd woken up from her nap. "So are you going to put on that stuff now?" she asked, avoiding the thought of spreading a thick, yellowish pus on her bare skin. In response, Madame Pomfrey lifted up a far of thick, yellowish pus, along with a bag full with balls of cotton.
"Great," muttered Ginny, sarcasm evident in her tone. With a grimace, she closed her eyes as the nurse picked up a cotton ball and went to work. When she was done administering the Bubotubor pus, she let it sit for a few minutes before wiping it away with a damp washcloth.
"Alright," announced Madame Pomfrey, dropping the cloth into a hamper. "I'm all done. I'll go get your clothes."
She went to the other end of the ward and returned with the same clothes she'd been wearing the same day that she arrived. Plopping them down at the end of her bed, Madame Pomfrey drew the curtains for her. Silently, she began to pull her gown over her head. As she did so, she heard Madame Pomfrey speak to her.
"Ginny, dear?" she said from behind the curtain.
Ginny paused briefly before answering. "Yes, ma'am?"
"That night...was Daphne an accident?"
Ginny smirked lightly to herself, now pulling on her other shirt. The first thought that went through her head, due to the wording of the question - Yes. She was an accident. On the other hand, she did realize that Madame Pomfrey didn't mean it that way.
"Yes," she answered. "We didn't mean for her to fall; she lost her balance."
Unsteadily, she fumbled with her jeans, trying to bend into a more suitable angle. There was a brief silence before Madame Pomfrey asked her something else.
"Are you sure that Rebecca pushed her?" she said as Ginny was pulling back to curtain. At a glance, Madame Pomfrey's expression wasn't exactly readable to her. Concern or suspicion? Ginny's expression faltered as she put on her jacket.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I take it you haven't found her records yet?"
For a fleeting moment, creases lined the nurses forehead prior to her answer.
"No, dear... You can go back to the Gryffindor tower now." She finished quietly, putting on a seemingly forcible smile. Ginny smiled back politely, heading for the doors.
"Bye, Madame Pomfrey," she called over her shoulder.
There wasn't an answer.
As the early evening settled in, the limited light of overcast skies poured through the windows, casting the corridors with a dim, eerie glow. Usually around this time, either the torches were lit or she'd be returning with her fellow Gryffindors from classes or dinner, and the darkness of the castle hadn't seemed so scary - somewhat soothing to her, actually. But all alone in the dark, she felt a bit anxious from the bleak corners and turns.
It's tough being paranoid, she thought worriedly to herself. It even seemed a bit colder than usual, she realized as she tugged her on her jacket.
Bravely, she began her journey to the tower, taking slow, tentative steps. Her eyes were peeled as she went, trying to ignore the creaks of the old building and the occasional whistling of the wind from outside.
Oh, come on, Gin. You've come this way hundreds of times. There's nothing to be afraid of.
Though trying to believe her thoughts, she continued in a vigilant manner, preparing to run for it.
And then there was a sound, a shuffle. Against her best judgment, she paused for a moment and listened. Nothing.
Not even daring to look behind her, she began to walk again, quickening her pace considerably. She heard it again and, this time, didn't stop going. The shuffling only became louder, soon to be joined by audible footsteps.
Someone was following.
Eyes widening, she went with what she'd wanted to do: run. As fast as her legs could go, she sprinted down the corridors and a staircase with no regard to her difficulty to breathe or her pounding heart. It didn't matter right now.
But then:
"Hey!" called the person, sounding out of breath. "Wait up!"
Ginny halted suddenly, holding her own breath momentarily as she spun around. Looking up the head of the stairs, she could make out an approaching figure, probably a boy. His silhouette gave away the odd state of his hair.
"Harry?" she whispered, making her way up the stairs to meet him. The figure nodded his head fervently.
"Why are you running?" he questioned in a confused way. She didn't say anything - without a thought in her head, she threw her arms around him in immense relief. She felt him hesitantly pat her on the back.
"Er...hi," he said nervously. Her eyes widened again. Seeming to come back to her senses, she quickly withdrew from him, now thanking the darkness. Well, in any case, she was sure she was glowing to be seen in the dark.
"Sorry, Harry," she said hurriedly. "It's really dark - I heard a noise, so I just --"
"It's alright," he reassured her. "I was coming up to check on you before I went back to the common room, and you, er...passed right by me. Sorry if I scared you."
"No, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
Ginny nodded, figuring that he could see her well enough. They stood in silence for a minute and she focused on something past him to lighten the awkwardness of the moment off of her. It was a few seconds before she realized Harry was staring at her. Even though there wasn't much light in the corridors, she could see how it seemed to illuminate the bright green of his eyes in a fascinating way. Her breath caught in her throat.
Wow.
She stared wondrously at him for just a few seconds - before the torches began to light up.
And there they were, now with better vision, staring at each other. Chuckling nervously, both of them turned away.
"We should probably be getting back," Ginny said in a hushed voice. Harry just nodded. Together, they began their way back to the tower. After a few quiet moments, Ginny's mind and previous thoughts before she stepped into the corridor returned to her.
Rebecca. Still no records. How did she even get in without them? And if she doesn't have them, how did she stay in?
How will she?
"I worry about her sometimes," she said incoherently, not very attentive to her own words. She scrunched her brow in confusion. Did I just say that out loud?
"Pardon?" responded Harry, puzzled.
"Oh - nothing," she said, feeling her cheeks burning in the slightest. "I was just thinking aloud --"
"About what?"
Ginny, taken aback by his questioning, took a second to answer. "Er, Rebecca," she said, lowering her voice as she continued. "I'm worried about her."
"Is she okay?" asked Harry.
"I hope so," she said. "See, Madame Pomfrey says she has no medical records, and I think she might get expelled or something."
His puzzled look returned. "No records? Did they loose them or something?"
"Hmm... Well, now that I think about it, they must have," said Ginny. "I mean, I don't think she'd have gotten in without them. Yeah, that sounds about right."
Not much else was said as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and entered the common room, which was fairly empty because just about everyone had gone home for winter holidays. They lingered for a few moments before turning in for the night.
"Again, sorry I scared you tonight," said Harry quietly as he was about to go up to his dormitory.
"It's okay. Better you than...other people," she said, unable to think of someone off the top of her head. He smirked, approaching the staircase to his dormitory.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay," Ginny replied. "Goodnight."
"'Night, Gin."
He was the first to disappear behind his door. When he had, she was smiling contently, as she always did. She then entered her own room, where she ran into Becky, who smiled up at her from her four-poster.
"You're back," she greeted. Ginny smiled back, falling onto her own bed.
"Yep," she sighed. "And I've been thinking: maybe the school lost your records."
Becky glanced at her and then thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "That's a good explanation," she concluded ponderously.
Ginny smiled gently. "And on the way back, I ran into Harry."
Becky smirked. "Yes, of course, Harry… It like the boy stalks you," she said, mumbling her next comment under her breath. "If I didn't know better..."
Becky trailed off, her eyes widening somewhat as she glanced the other girl and looking away. Ginny looked at her suspiciously.
"What?" she asked cautiously. Becky just smiled nervously, shaking her head dismissively.
"Nothing," she said quietly.
"No," said Ginny, suddenly interested. She picked her head up for a better view. "What do you mean, 'if you didn't know better?'"
Becky still avoided eye contact, looking down on her bedspread. She winced somewhat.
"Becky --"
"Alright," she answered after a few tense seconds. "I might as well tell you... Well, I'm just not sure anymore about Harry..."
"Why do you say that?" prompted Ginny, sitting up.
Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know..." she mumbled. "I've just seen him...talking to Cho lately, and I thought..."
Ginny's look of suspicion diluted into something else, a subtler one.
"He's been talking to Cho?"
"A little..." When she didn't elaborate, Ginny pressed for more details.
"What's he been saying?"
Becky shrugged again. "I don't know, I wasn't that close."
Ginny swallowed a lump in her throat as she asked one more question.
"Well, you don't think..." She couldn't finish, couldn't bring herself to say it.
Either way, all she got in response to that was a heavy sigh and a moment of silence. Becky turned to her again.
"Look," she said, "I'm sorry I got you all fired up about it. Shouldn't have said anything. Never mind, okay?"
And with that, she turned over on her side, her back to her friend, who was left staring after her. She felt a familiar sensation beneath her ribs, the same one she'd had when he'd gone to the Yule Ball with Parvati Patil. When she'd been watching through the window as Hermione kissed him on the cheek.
When he'd invited Cho for the second time to the ball.
But no. That couldn't be right. Why was he around all the time? Why was he so instantly keen to be around all the time?
I mean, I know he may always have some feelings for her, she thought rationally, but...he still wants to be with me, doesn't he?
Doesn't he?
"But that can't be right, Becky," she said quietly after her in barely a whisper.
Ginny guessed she hadn't heard; there was no response.
******************************************************************************Well... wonder what happens next?... What am I saying? No I don't. I'm writing it. He he.
But seriously, the next chapter should be pretty interesting. Hopefully it'll be up by the end/beginning of this/next week, but I can't promise anything. In fact, I should be done in a few chapters (keyword, "should"). Well, tune in next time, and thanks for reading.
