Chapter Ten: Solace
"Are you all right, Harry?"
Harry blinked and looked up at Ginny, who was sitting across from him at the dining room table, her eyes filled with concern.
"Yeah, fine," Harry lied. Ginny was over at his flat again; Ron and Hermione were at Hermione's; this time Ron was cooking Hermione dinner ("Hermione's good at a lot of stuff," Ron said, "but cooking is NOT one of them.").
Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, had agreed to meet at Harry's flat for another go at Harry's sexual education. Ginny had been training daily for the World Cup match since being chosen for the team, but tonight she had the night off.
"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip.
Harry looked at her. She looked very beautiful tonight; her hair was pulled up in a kind of knot and she wore a simply white blouse and a skirt with a deep green floral pattern on it that enhanced the green in her hazel eyes. Her lips were wet and shiny. Just looking at her made him feel a bit better.
"I'm sure," he said, smiling. "You look fantastic, by the way."
She blushed and smiled. She seemed to be blushing a lot these days, but Harry didn't mind one bit. "Thanks."
"How's the Quidditch going?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from himself.
"It's okay," said Ginny. "I'm the only girl on the team. The blokes are having a bit of a difficult time dealing with it, I think. I haven't really bonded with them."
"They're not being rude to you?" said Harry, feeling instantly affronted on her behalf.
"No, nothing like that," said Ginny. "But, you know, I think before it was just 'the guys.' Now I come along and mess up that dynamic a bit. I feel like I have to work twice as hard and fly twice as well just to prove myself or something. But I think they're starting to come around."
"Blokes can be real idiots sometimes," said Harry, smirking. "But you knew that."
"Yeah, I knew that," said Ginny, grinning. "Of course, women can be a handful, too, so I guess it balances out in the end."
They looked at one another in silence for a few minutes. She watched him, studied him as though trying to crack through his veneer of light- heartedness. He looked away, not wanting her to know why he didn't feel himself tonight. He didn't want to burden her with the source of his woes. He said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Uh, do you want...to go upstairs?" he asked.
She smiled. "Sure. Let's just clear this up first." She and Harry rose from the table and quickly cleared the dishes with their wands.
"Dinner was amazing," said Harry. "Where'd you learn to cook like that?"
"Mum, naturally," said Ginny. "It's the only domestic thing I'm remotely good at. But don't tell anyone. It'd ruin my sterling reputation as a tomboy."
Harry watched her put away the dishes and watched the way her skirt lifted as she reached up to pile the plates in the upper cabinets. She looked nothing like a tomboy just then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sorry about the mess," said Harry quickly, as they entered his cluttered, messy bedroom. "I meant to clean up but...but I have all this work I need to catch up on, only I haven't really been able to keep my mind on it..."
He hurried over to his desk and started to straighten it, when his eyes fell on the letter. He stopped, and swallowed. He hadn't meant to leave it out. He'd meant to throw it away. He HAD thrown it away, three days ago, but then he had dug it out of the wastepaper basket and smoothed it out and read it again and again and again.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry's head jerked up. "Uh, nothing," he lied, and he quickly stacked a pile of parchment on top of the letter. "Just...found something I need to deal with at work. I'll have to, you know, first thing tomorrow."
"Oh," said Ginny, but she didn't sound all that convinced. She didn't push the issue, however, but instead crossed to the desk and placed her handbag next to the stack of papers.
"So," said Harry, in a falsely cheerful voice, "what do you want to, uh, go over tonight?"
Ginny looked up at him with her probing hazel eyes. "I thought we might discuss, you know, chapter ten of 'Tantric Sex.'"
"Oh," said Harry, blushing a bit. He sat down on his bed. "That."
"Yeah, that," said Ginny, smiling, and taking a seat at his desk chair. "Then I guess we should revisit the whole undressing issue-you did really well the other night but maybe another go-around would, uh, firm things up for you, if you'll pardon the expression."
"Right," said Harry, trying to smile, thinking of the letter that was hidden beneath the stack of parchment. He swallowed and looked at Ginny.
"Harry," said Ginny. "What's wrong? You're not yourself tonight. Please talk to me."
He looked at her, saw the concern in her eyes. Somehow, seeing Ginny regard him with compassion and concern, he knew SHE would understand.
"She wrote to me," said Harry, his voice feeling strangled.
"Who, Cho?"
"No," said Harry, looking down. "Susan."
Ginny took a deep breath. "Ah."
"She...she told me why...she dumped me," said Harry, finding it suddenly very hard to talk.
Ginny said nothing, only nodded. Harry was grateful for this. No jumping in with all sorts of advice, no gratingly annoying sounds of sympathy. Just a silent nod and an open ear. Harry took a breath and continued.
"Do you know why she dumped me?" he said, feeling a bitter taste form in his mouth. "Because...get this...she 'loved me too much.' How's that for irony? She was afraid, she said. After what happened. You know, at...at the Riddle House? She said...she couldn't bear the thought of losing me when she'd lost all these other people she cared about. So she dumped me."
Ginny still said nothing, but moved from his chair and took a seat next to him on the bed, and silently took his hand in hers.
"The thing is," Harry went on, gripping Ginny's hand and finding it still harder to talk, "I thought...I was over her. I really did. I mean, yeah, I...I got a bit upset when I saw her at your Quidditch match but you know...a few days later I wasn't upset anymore and I thought...okay. You're over her. You can get on with it. But then she writes me this bloody letter and...and suddenly it's all there. It all comes back. This...this ache. Right here." He pointed to his chest and looked at Ginny, whose eyes were shiny.
"It's not supposed to hurt anymore," said Harry miserably. "But it does. It still hurts like bloody hell and...and I HATE it. I'm sick of..."
He fell silent and swallowed against the lump in his throat. He felt like crying, would have welcomed tears, but he wasn't sure he wanted to in front of Ginny. He'd never cried in front of anyone in his life; he'd always thought it was a bit weak, really, a bloke crying.
He'd done it of course. Plenty of times. He cried himself to sleep for months after Sirius died, but always silently, always alone, always when he was absolutely certain nobody could hear him. He'd cried when Susan threw him over. But he couldn't quite reconcile himself to believing that crying was anything other than a sign of weakness. Girls cried, he told himself. Not me.
Ginny was still silent but she had put her arm around his shoulder. He felt her stroking his hair.
"I just..." he said, not sure why he was talking but unable to stop "...I just don't understand why it still bothers me. I mean, she's moved on. Why can't I? Why...why did she have to tell me the truth? It doesn't make me feel any better. I mean, she leaves me because she's too scared to be with me? She throws away what we had because...because she's afraid? How's that supposed to make me feel, knowing that? And, dammit, I was over her. I was over IT, the whole bloody thing. I didn't need this, Ginny. I don't need this. I don't need to hear, two years after the fact, that the first girl I ever cared about dumped me and tossed away something really good because she was too much of a coward to hold onto it. I just want to bloody well be OVER her!"
He felt himself choke a little on those last words and swallowed hard again, forcing back the burning in his eyes.
Ginny moved closer to him, and at last she spoke.
"Nobody ever really gets over losing someone they care about, Harry," said Ginny.
"Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better," said Harry bitterly.
"Harry," said Ginny slowly. "Susan...she was your first girlfriend, okay? Your first love. I mean, who ever gets over that completely? You think I'm 'over' Dean, just because we went out when I was bloody fifteen years old? I loved that stupid blighter and it hurt like hell when he threw me over, and sometimes it still hurts. But ask yourself this. If Susan came to your door tomorrow and begged you to take her back, would you do it?"
Harry looked at Ginny, taken aback by the vehemence of her words. He'd had no idea that Dean had truly hurt her feelings back in school. But then, why would he. Friends Harry and Ginny might have been, but Harry had never truly gotten involved in Ginny's personal life, had he? He'd never asked Ginny how she felt about much of anything. He'd always gone to her with his own problems. But he'd never bothered to find out about her.
Bloody selfish prat, he thought suddenly.
"Harry?"
"No," said Harry at once. "I wouldn't take her back."
Ginny nodded, and let out a heavy breath, as though relieved by this, but that struck Harry as a bit odd. Why would she be relieved about that?
"Well, there you go," said Ginny. "Look, Harry, maybe what you really miss is having a relationship. I mean, you had a good one with Susan. You two looked pretty happy together, from what I recall."
"We were," said Harry, smiling sadly.
"Who wouldn't miss that?" said Ginny. "Having a good relationship with someone? A friend who understood you? And hell, the snogging didn't hurt, did it?"
Harry felt himself laugh in spite of himself.
"So you're saying I don't miss Susan," said Harry. "I just miss..."
"The idea of being with someone, yeah," said Ginny.
Harry looked at her and nodded, feeling the tightness in his chest relax just a little. "That...makes sense, I guess."
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.
"Ginny," Harry said suddenly. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For...for being selfish, with you," said Harry. "I'm always dumping on you with my problems; I did it all through seventh year and I never once asked about you. I...I don't think I was a very good friend to you."
Ginny blushed and looked down. "You...you had quite enough on your plate, as I remember."
"Yeah," said Harry, which was true-there was Voldemort to consider back then, of course. "But I still could have asked you. About you."
"It's okay," said Ginny, meeting his eyes, but she looked sad again-as sad as she'd looked that day on the Quidditch pitch, after she'd flown so brilliantly.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" Harry asked, moving closer to her.
She looked down and let go of his hand.
"Nothing," she mumbled.
"Ginny, look at me," Harry said, suddenly feeling the weight of her sadness wrap itself around him. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head up. When she looked at him he felt a pang. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears.
"What happened to make you so sad?" he asked, brushing away a tear as it fell.
She said nothing for a moment, but her lower lip trembled.
"I...I..." she stammered, and she swallowed. "I can't..." She shook her head and looked down again, and her shoulders began to shake. She couldn't seem to talk. She could only cry.
Harry watched her for a moment, feeling wretched. He'd never been all that good at dealing with a girl's tears, but somehow this was different. This was Ginny crying, for reasons he couldn't fathom, and it cut him to the quick to see her so unhappy. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him.
She let out a kind of strangled sob and sank against him, letting him hold her. Harry rested his cheek against the top of her head and stroked her hair. He said nothing-she seemed to need to do nothing but cry right now, so he let her do it.
After a while her sobs quieted. She took a few hearty sniffs and sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face-tear stained. She looked heart- breakingly beautiful.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her face. "I...I didn't mean to lose my head on you like that."
He brushed her hair back from her face. "You don't have to apologize," said Harry. "I just...wish you'd tell me what's been bothering you."
"It's stupid," said Ginny, waving a hand impatiently and sitting back from him.
"Not if it's making you this upset," said Harry forcefully.
She looked at him and smiled sadly. "Okay, maybe not stupid. But...I mean...I guess when you told me about Susan writing you...it made me think...of Dean...and of Colin...and hell, even of that stupid Michael Corner, can you believe it? And the other blokes I've dated or otherwise been involved with and...and how...oh, hell...I guess seeing you so upset made me remember what it felt like to get my own heart broken. Pretty silly, isn't it?"
"No," said Harry, taking her right hand in his left and fetching her a tissue with his right hand. He handed it to her and she dabbed at her eyes and nose.
"I guess that's why I've given up," said Ginny. "On relationships, you know. I mean, yeah, they're wonderful at first but then...boom!...something happens and suddenly you find that the person you've lost your head over has just...ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it."
"That's a pretty vivid way to describe it," said Harry, smiling grimly. "Vivid but accurate. But...you've really...given up? On...on love?"
"Yeah," said Ginny, smiling wryly. "I mean, I've...I've been round the block a few times, Harry. You know that. I'm not nearly the tart people thought I was in school, mind, but...well...I've been there, done that. And I really don't feel like revisiting the whole broken heart thing."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling sad that she should feel like this. "But...but how do you know...I mean, for all you know there could be someone out there who's perfect for you-"
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Ginny, a slightly bitter tone to her voice. "You don't REALLY believe in that whole 'two people are destined for each other and nobody else' junk, do you?"
"Yeah," said Harry defensively. "Look at Ron and Hermione!"
"They're the exception, not the rule," said Ginny sadly. "And who knows? Something could happen tomorrow and they break up. Nothing's certain, Harry. Nothing's guaranteed. Nothing, that is, except my own behavior, my own choices. The way I see it, why...why take the risk?"
"Because it feels bloody good, even if it doesn't last," said Harry vehemently. "Look, I'm not saying I liked being dumped by Susan, but...but I sure as hell wouldn't trade what happened between us just because...just because of how things ended up. I had some good times with her."
Ginny smiled at him sadly. "I wouldn't trade my time with Dean or Colin or anyone else, either," she said. "I...I just don't care to repeat history, that's all."
Harry looked at her and felt...a bit hurt. He wasn't sure why. It shouldn't really bother him like this, hearing her rather cynical view on human relationships. I mean, it wasn't like she was HIS girlfriend. But for some reason it stung to hear her disparage love as she did. Even if she had been hurt badly more than once.
"You were never a tart," said Harry suddenly.
Ginny gave a kind of bitter laugh that turned into a soft smile. She looked into his eyes. "Look at us, would you? A couple of very messed-up people, aren't we?"
Harry shook his head and smiled in spite of himself. "You're a cynic and I'm a loser."
"No, you're not," said Ginny firmly. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."
He looked up at her, at her hazel eyes, which shone green in the candlelight. At her hair, which caught the flickering of the flame and looked like spun gold. At her skin. She leaned close to him, closer, took his face in her hands and kissed him slowly.
Harry closed his eyes and felt his insides freeze up. He couldn't do this. Not tonight.
"Ginny," he said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I-I don't think I'm up for a lesson tonight, actually."
She moved closer to him and stroked his jaw with her thumbs. "I'm not giving any lessons tonight," she murmured.
He blinked and looked into the depths of her eyes, where he could see his own bespectacled reflection, and he slowly understood what she meant. He felt blood rush to his groin and his whole body started to tingle.
"Are you sure?" he whispered. "I thought you said...if we..."
"Forget what I said," she said in a low voice. "Just...just be with me. Tonight."
"Are you all right, Harry?"
Harry blinked and looked up at Ginny, who was sitting across from him at the dining room table, her eyes filled with concern.
"Yeah, fine," Harry lied. Ginny was over at his flat again; Ron and Hermione were at Hermione's; this time Ron was cooking Hermione dinner ("Hermione's good at a lot of stuff," Ron said, "but cooking is NOT one of them.").
Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, had agreed to meet at Harry's flat for another go at Harry's sexual education. Ginny had been training daily for the World Cup match since being chosen for the team, but tonight she had the night off.
"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip.
Harry looked at her. She looked very beautiful tonight; her hair was pulled up in a kind of knot and she wore a simply white blouse and a skirt with a deep green floral pattern on it that enhanced the green in her hazel eyes. Her lips were wet and shiny. Just looking at her made him feel a bit better.
"I'm sure," he said, smiling. "You look fantastic, by the way."
She blushed and smiled. She seemed to be blushing a lot these days, but Harry didn't mind one bit. "Thanks."
"How's the Quidditch going?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from himself.
"It's okay," said Ginny. "I'm the only girl on the team. The blokes are having a bit of a difficult time dealing with it, I think. I haven't really bonded with them."
"They're not being rude to you?" said Harry, feeling instantly affronted on her behalf.
"No, nothing like that," said Ginny. "But, you know, I think before it was just 'the guys.' Now I come along and mess up that dynamic a bit. I feel like I have to work twice as hard and fly twice as well just to prove myself or something. But I think they're starting to come around."
"Blokes can be real idiots sometimes," said Harry, smirking. "But you knew that."
"Yeah, I knew that," said Ginny, grinning. "Of course, women can be a handful, too, so I guess it balances out in the end."
They looked at one another in silence for a few minutes. She watched him, studied him as though trying to crack through his veneer of light- heartedness. He looked away, not wanting her to know why he didn't feel himself tonight. He didn't want to burden her with the source of his woes. He said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Uh, do you want...to go upstairs?" he asked.
She smiled. "Sure. Let's just clear this up first." She and Harry rose from the table and quickly cleared the dishes with their wands.
"Dinner was amazing," said Harry. "Where'd you learn to cook like that?"
"Mum, naturally," said Ginny. "It's the only domestic thing I'm remotely good at. But don't tell anyone. It'd ruin my sterling reputation as a tomboy."
Harry watched her put away the dishes and watched the way her skirt lifted as she reached up to pile the plates in the upper cabinets. She looked nothing like a tomboy just then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sorry about the mess," said Harry quickly, as they entered his cluttered, messy bedroom. "I meant to clean up but...but I have all this work I need to catch up on, only I haven't really been able to keep my mind on it..."
He hurried over to his desk and started to straighten it, when his eyes fell on the letter. He stopped, and swallowed. He hadn't meant to leave it out. He'd meant to throw it away. He HAD thrown it away, three days ago, but then he had dug it out of the wastepaper basket and smoothed it out and read it again and again and again.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry's head jerked up. "Uh, nothing," he lied, and he quickly stacked a pile of parchment on top of the letter. "Just...found something I need to deal with at work. I'll have to, you know, first thing tomorrow."
"Oh," said Ginny, but she didn't sound all that convinced. She didn't push the issue, however, but instead crossed to the desk and placed her handbag next to the stack of papers.
"So," said Harry, in a falsely cheerful voice, "what do you want to, uh, go over tonight?"
Ginny looked up at him with her probing hazel eyes. "I thought we might discuss, you know, chapter ten of 'Tantric Sex.'"
"Oh," said Harry, blushing a bit. He sat down on his bed. "That."
"Yeah, that," said Ginny, smiling, and taking a seat at his desk chair. "Then I guess we should revisit the whole undressing issue-you did really well the other night but maybe another go-around would, uh, firm things up for you, if you'll pardon the expression."
"Right," said Harry, trying to smile, thinking of the letter that was hidden beneath the stack of parchment. He swallowed and looked at Ginny.
"Harry," said Ginny. "What's wrong? You're not yourself tonight. Please talk to me."
He looked at her, saw the concern in her eyes. Somehow, seeing Ginny regard him with compassion and concern, he knew SHE would understand.
"She wrote to me," said Harry, his voice feeling strangled.
"Who, Cho?"
"No," said Harry, looking down. "Susan."
Ginny took a deep breath. "Ah."
"She...she told me why...she dumped me," said Harry, finding it suddenly very hard to talk.
Ginny said nothing, only nodded. Harry was grateful for this. No jumping in with all sorts of advice, no gratingly annoying sounds of sympathy. Just a silent nod and an open ear. Harry took a breath and continued.
"Do you know why she dumped me?" he said, feeling a bitter taste form in his mouth. "Because...get this...she 'loved me too much.' How's that for irony? She was afraid, she said. After what happened. You know, at...at the Riddle House? She said...she couldn't bear the thought of losing me when she'd lost all these other people she cared about. So she dumped me."
Ginny still said nothing, but moved from his chair and took a seat next to him on the bed, and silently took his hand in hers.
"The thing is," Harry went on, gripping Ginny's hand and finding it still harder to talk, "I thought...I was over her. I really did. I mean, yeah, I...I got a bit upset when I saw her at your Quidditch match but you know...a few days later I wasn't upset anymore and I thought...okay. You're over her. You can get on with it. But then she writes me this bloody letter and...and suddenly it's all there. It all comes back. This...this ache. Right here." He pointed to his chest and looked at Ginny, whose eyes were shiny.
"It's not supposed to hurt anymore," said Harry miserably. "But it does. It still hurts like bloody hell and...and I HATE it. I'm sick of..."
He fell silent and swallowed against the lump in his throat. He felt like crying, would have welcomed tears, but he wasn't sure he wanted to in front of Ginny. He'd never cried in front of anyone in his life; he'd always thought it was a bit weak, really, a bloke crying.
He'd done it of course. Plenty of times. He cried himself to sleep for months after Sirius died, but always silently, always alone, always when he was absolutely certain nobody could hear him. He'd cried when Susan threw him over. But he couldn't quite reconcile himself to believing that crying was anything other than a sign of weakness. Girls cried, he told himself. Not me.
Ginny was still silent but she had put her arm around his shoulder. He felt her stroking his hair.
"I just..." he said, not sure why he was talking but unable to stop "...I just don't understand why it still bothers me. I mean, she's moved on. Why can't I? Why...why did she have to tell me the truth? It doesn't make me feel any better. I mean, she leaves me because she's too scared to be with me? She throws away what we had because...because she's afraid? How's that supposed to make me feel, knowing that? And, dammit, I was over her. I was over IT, the whole bloody thing. I didn't need this, Ginny. I don't need this. I don't need to hear, two years after the fact, that the first girl I ever cared about dumped me and tossed away something really good because she was too much of a coward to hold onto it. I just want to bloody well be OVER her!"
He felt himself choke a little on those last words and swallowed hard again, forcing back the burning in his eyes.
Ginny moved closer to him, and at last she spoke.
"Nobody ever really gets over losing someone they care about, Harry," said Ginny.
"Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better," said Harry bitterly.
"Harry," said Ginny slowly. "Susan...she was your first girlfriend, okay? Your first love. I mean, who ever gets over that completely? You think I'm 'over' Dean, just because we went out when I was bloody fifteen years old? I loved that stupid blighter and it hurt like hell when he threw me over, and sometimes it still hurts. But ask yourself this. If Susan came to your door tomorrow and begged you to take her back, would you do it?"
Harry looked at Ginny, taken aback by the vehemence of her words. He'd had no idea that Dean had truly hurt her feelings back in school. But then, why would he. Friends Harry and Ginny might have been, but Harry had never truly gotten involved in Ginny's personal life, had he? He'd never asked Ginny how she felt about much of anything. He'd always gone to her with his own problems. But he'd never bothered to find out about her.
Bloody selfish prat, he thought suddenly.
"Harry?"
"No," said Harry at once. "I wouldn't take her back."
Ginny nodded, and let out a heavy breath, as though relieved by this, but that struck Harry as a bit odd. Why would she be relieved about that?
"Well, there you go," said Ginny. "Look, Harry, maybe what you really miss is having a relationship. I mean, you had a good one with Susan. You two looked pretty happy together, from what I recall."
"We were," said Harry, smiling sadly.
"Who wouldn't miss that?" said Ginny. "Having a good relationship with someone? A friend who understood you? And hell, the snogging didn't hurt, did it?"
Harry felt himself laugh in spite of himself.
"So you're saying I don't miss Susan," said Harry. "I just miss..."
"The idea of being with someone, yeah," said Ginny.
Harry looked at her and nodded, feeling the tightness in his chest relax just a little. "That...makes sense, I guess."
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.
"Ginny," Harry said suddenly. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For...for being selfish, with you," said Harry. "I'm always dumping on you with my problems; I did it all through seventh year and I never once asked about you. I...I don't think I was a very good friend to you."
Ginny blushed and looked down. "You...you had quite enough on your plate, as I remember."
"Yeah," said Harry, which was true-there was Voldemort to consider back then, of course. "But I still could have asked you. About you."
"It's okay," said Ginny, meeting his eyes, but she looked sad again-as sad as she'd looked that day on the Quidditch pitch, after she'd flown so brilliantly.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" Harry asked, moving closer to her.
She looked down and let go of his hand.
"Nothing," she mumbled.
"Ginny, look at me," Harry said, suddenly feeling the weight of her sadness wrap itself around him. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head up. When she looked at him he felt a pang. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears.
"What happened to make you so sad?" he asked, brushing away a tear as it fell.
She said nothing for a moment, but her lower lip trembled.
"I...I..." she stammered, and she swallowed. "I can't..." She shook her head and looked down again, and her shoulders began to shake. She couldn't seem to talk. She could only cry.
Harry watched her for a moment, feeling wretched. He'd never been all that good at dealing with a girl's tears, but somehow this was different. This was Ginny crying, for reasons he couldn't fathom, and it cut him to the quick to see her so unhappy. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him.
She let out a kind of strangled sob and sank against him, letting him hold her. Harry rested his cheek against the top of her head and stroked her hair. He said nothing-she seemed to need to do nothing but cry right now, so he let her do it.
After a while her sobs quieted. She took a few hearty sniffs and sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face-tear stained. She looked heart- breakingly beautiful.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her face. "I...I didn't mean to lose my head on you like that."
He brushed her hair back from her face. "You don't have to apologize," said Harry. "I just...wish you'd tell me what's been bothering you."
"It's stupid," said Ginny, waving a hand impatiently and sitting back from him.
"Not if it's making you this upset," said Harry forcefully.
She looked at him and smiled sadly. "Okay, maybe not stupid. But...I mean...I guess when you told me about Susan writing you...it made me think...of Dean...and of Colin...and hell, even of that stupid Michael Corner, can you believe it? And the other blokes I've dated or otherwise been involved with and...and how...oh, hell...I guess seeing you so upset made me remember what it felt like to get my own heart broken. Pretty silly, isn't it?"
"No," said Harry, taking her right hand in his left and fetching her a tissue with his right hand. He handed it to her and she dabbed at her eyes and nose.
"I guess that's why I've given up," said Ginny. "On relationships, you know. I mean, yeah, they're wonderful at first but then...boom!...something happens and suddenly you find that the person you've lost your head over has just...ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it."
"That's a pretty vivid way to describe it," said Harry, smiling grimly. "Vivid but accurate. But...you've really...given up? On...on love?"
"Yeah," said Ginny, smiling wryly. "I mean, I've...I've been round the block a few times, Harry. You know that. I'm not nearly the tart people thought I was in school, mind, but...well...I've been there, done that. And I really don't feel like revisiting the whole broken heart thing."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling sad that she should feel like this. "But...but how do you know...I mean, for all you know there could be someone out there who's perfect for you-"
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Ginny, a slightly bitter tone to her voice. "You don't REALLY believe in that whole 'two people are destined for each other and nobody else' junk, do you?"
"Yeah," said Harry defensively. "Look at Ron and Hermione!"
"They're the exception, not the rule," said Ginny sadly. "And who knows? Something could happen tomorrow and they break up. Nothing's certain, Harry. Nothing's guaranteed. Nothing, that is, except my own behavior, my own choices. The way I see it, why...why take the risk?"
"Because it feels bloody good, even if it doesn't last," said Harry vehemently. "Look, I'm not saying I liked being dumped by Susan, but...but I sure as hell wouldn't trade what happened between us just because...just because of how things ended up. I had some good times with her."
Ginny smiled at him sadly. "I wouldn't trade my time with Dean or Colin or anyone else, either," she said. "I...I just don't care to repeat history, that's all."
Harry looked at her and felt...a bit hurt. He wasn't sure why. It shouldn't really bother him like this, hearing her rather cynical view on human relationships. I mean, it wasn't like she was HIS girlfriend. But for some reason it stung to hear her disparage love as she did. Even if she had been hurt badly more than once.
"You were never a tart," said Harry suddenly.
Ginny gave a kind of bitter laugh that turned into a soft smile. She looked into his eyes. "Look at us, would you? A couple of very messed-up people, aren't we?"
Harry shook his head and smiled in spite of himself. "You're a cynic and I'm a loser."
"No, you're not," said Ginny firmly. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."
He looked up at her, at her hazel eyes, which shone green in the candlelight. At her hair, which caught the flickering of the flame and looked like spun gold. At her skin. She leaned close to him, closer, took his face in her hands and kissed him slowly.
Harry closed his eyes and felt his insides freeze up. He couldn't do this. Not tonight.
"Ginny," he said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I-I don't think I'm up for a lesson tonight, actually."
She moved closer to him and stroked his jaw with her thumbs. "I'm not giving any lessons tonight," she murmured.
He blinked and looked into the depths of her eyes, where he could see his own bespectacled reflection, and he slowly understood what she meant. He felt blood rush to his groin and his whole body started to tingle.
"Are you sure?" he whispered. "I thought you said...if we..."
"Forget what I said," she said in a low voice. "Just...just be with me. Tonight."
