Chapter One
For two months, they had made excuses.
"She, uh, she caught Muggle pneumonia," Ron would lie.
"She'll be back soon," Hermione hoped.
And none of them knew what it would be like when she did return, or how to avoid the subject of what made her snap. In fact, neither Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, nor George even knew what made her snap! All of the Gryffindors and even a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sent her flowers and letters and singing cards via owl…but none of them knew that the owls' destination was St. Mungo's.
So far, Harry was the only member of the "Weasley" family that hadn't gone to see Ginny. He'd stay in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower and clench his fists as he mentally accused himself over and over. He'd been the recipient of Hermione's disappointed frowns and Ron's indifference. If his friends hadn't noticed the difference in his attitude earlier that summer, they surely saw it now.
It had been different with Cedric's death. Sure, he had lost any chance to date Cho, but the guilt he had felt was on a totally different level. Cedric and died because he was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. As far as he knew, the last person that Ginny had spoken to was Just Harry, Ron's best friend. And in Harry's opinion, that was worse. He balled his fists. Why did his existence yield so many hurts? Then it hit him.
Maybe Ginny had felt that her presence was too much; hadn't he, Ron, and Hermione told her to go away more than once and not include her? Harry was beginning to understand how she must have felt. Because though Ron and Hermione hadn't stopped caring about or hanging out with him, he'd been the blatant object of many whispered conversations. Is this how Ginny felt?
But it seemed that perhaps the fog was lifting; Ginny was being released, and as far as Harry was concerned, the nightmare would soon be over. He wouldn't have to hear Ron cry into his pillow at night or see Hermione bury herself in her homework even more so.
Perhaps when Ginny returned, he would just be happy that she was alive and forget the fact that he was the last person she talked to before attempting suicide.
Then again, he would probably just have to hope that Ginny kept that fact a secret.
Ron and Hermione had no idea that Harry Potter was responsible for this tragedy, and he intended to keep it that way.
~ ~ ~
Ginny took one last look around the room that had been her home for the last two months. She felt fresh from the first unsupervised bath that she just got out of. This room on the 3rd hall of the psychiatric ward was a nice little room, with lavender walls and a cute little window shaded with spring-yellow curtains. It was cheerful, and a welcome change from the narrow bed upon which her life had been saved. She had been confined to 24 hour watch for the first two weeks and met with a Muggle psychologist for the better part of the day. She had wondered at the presence of a Muggle in a wizard's hospital, and had learned that there was an actual alliance between the Muggle and Wizarding world for purposes and cases such as these.
Oh, how she was weary of the doctors and their questions. She squinted in the mirror, noting that her hair was longer but needed a trim, and though her eyes had never been full of life, the sparkle that had been there was gone, leaving a dull, empty, and old presence instead. She tried to button her long-sleeve shirt and scrunched her nose when she realized that she'd have to leave it open; there were curves now where there hadn't been before, thanks to the Muggle antidepressants she was on…they made you gain weight.
But she felt…decent. At first, they had to watch her to make sure that she'd eat. She thought that her avoidance of food would force them to see that she just needed to go to Hogwarts!
Hogwarts. So far, Harry hadn't been to see her. Dumbledore had given the Weasley children, Harry, and Hermione permission to visit her every weekend, and, at first, she hated it. She was so out of touch with everything, but at the same time she was painfully aware of Ron's teary eyes and Hermione's lack of words. Fred and George were always telling her funny stories about her friends. But Harry's absence was always evident. Though, she didn't blame him for not coming. Not one bit.
Her eyes fluttered open for a moment. The absence of color startled her, hazy and swirling as it came into focus as a stark white room. She tried to sit up, but she heard someone gently tell her no and softly push her back down. She turned toward the voice and saw emerald green and raven black…then lightening…no, something lightening-shaped. The look in the emerald was a reflection of hers: fear.
Gin, I'm sorry, I, I, the voice tried, the insecure tone sounding so familiar. She licked her cracked lips and spoke, her voice surprisingly clear.
Harry, oh dear…Harry, I…I'm not dead? she questioned, though she knew the answer. Hurt flickered in his eyes. I didn't mean to, Harry. I didn't. Tell mum and dad for me.
His jaw clenched as his fingers ran over the bandage covering her wrist. She saw him then, as she so often did, and she gave a little smile. He peered at her strangely and she understood.
It's not your fault, Harry. It's no one's, I don't even remember doing it…I'm tired. 'Night, Harry. He worried when her eyes closed, but, seeing that she was breathing normally and just sleeping, he dropped his forehead to her forearm and cried softly, guilt filling him to the core…
And that was the last time she had spoken to him. Well, the doctors rendered her sane and said it was safe to go back to Hogwarts. Then she'd see him and make him understand that it wasn't his fault, that she still loved him like a brother, and maybe confide that she was confused herself, that she didn't remember picking up the knife…and that perhaps the dark shadow she had seen in the bathroom before she passed out wasn't just her imagination.
"Virginia?" Merryl, her nurse questioned. She turned, and Merryl smiled. "Why, don't you look a pretty picture? Look at those curves! I daresay you'll have the boys at Hogwarts competing for your affections soon," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Ginny smiled, and it felt good. Her insides felt completely warmed, and her outlook became optimistic. She sharply turned her head toward the sound of footsteps on concrete.
"Ginny? Oh, my little girl!" Molly came running and Ginny felt her eyes begin to fill. She threw herself into her mum's arms and the two Weasley women sobbed.
~ ~ ~
"Father, are you aware that this is one of the few weekends that I have to explore Hogsmeade?" Lucius, sitting with impeccable posture, glared subtly at his son. He drummed his fingertips against the oak table in an aristocratic beat.
"Yes, Draco," he drawled. It was entirely evident from whence Draco's tone came. "Do you have a point?" Across the table, Draco swirled his brandy in his goblet and raised his eyebrows as he took a languid sip, letting the alcohol coat his tongue like velvet, savoring the taste and purposely making his father wait. He smoothly set the goblet's base back onto the table.
"What makes you think I want to spend my day with you?" He asked. The drumming stopped. He watched the candlelight dance across his father's scowl. The eyes that mirrored his own narrowed as Lucius leaned over the small space that separated them, practically nose to nose with his son.
"Draco," he whispered in a deadly tone. The one being question sighed, making the appearance of being bored.
"What?" he didn't bother trying to mask his irritation.
"I will not tolerate any insolence from you," Lucius growled. Draco raised a brow. "Watch your tone, boy, or you may wake up one morning to wolfsbane in your tea." Lucius moved gracefully back in his chair. "And what is it that you are drinking? Brandy?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The last thing that you need right now is to be an alcoholic. I did not raise my son to drown himself in self-pity."
"No, father, you didn't raise me at all, actually," Draco said. Lucius smirked.
"Draco, enough. Listen to what I have to say, and then I will leave you to your pathetic amusement. Neither of us wants to be here, and that is all very well. Put on a smile and a happy charade for all those watching, and keep the appearance." Draco pasted on a fake smile.
"Thank you. You are surely aware that you are almost 16, yes?" Draco cocked his head to the side.
"No, father, I'm not. When is my birthday again? Is it that day when I get all of those presents? Or the day when I get whipped once for every year I've been alive? I can't remember."
"Silence! You are surely asking for a beating. I will say this once. On your birthday, find the floo system in the kitchen, and floo to Hogsmeade. Apparate from there to the Manor's grounds. Be ready to be respectful and be initiated__"
"Or I will be tortured with the Cruciatus and possibly killed." Draco finished in an immature, sing-song voice.
"Do NOT interrupt me when I am speaking to you!" Lucius' control wavered, and the Three Broomsticks got quiet. Every eye was on them.
"Do not disappoint me, boy," He said authoritatively. Clouds met steel as the Malfoy men stared one another down. The glare was broken as Lucius whirled around almost with a whistle, and strode out of the pub. Draco reached up and raked his hair defiantly, deliberately messing it up and slouched in his chair, gulping the last of his brandy.
"Rosemerta!" he yelled. She appeared almost instantly, looking none-too-happy about it.
"Child, if you yell for me one more time," she threatened emptily. He raised his glass.
"I want another." He stated simply. She shook her head.
"Absolutely not. I will not be fired for allowing an underage wizard get drunk in my care!" He went to open his mouth, but her hands flew to her hips. "And I will not be bullied into it, either! You get on out of here, Mister Malfoy. Go on." He just stared, mouth agape, as she literally shooed him out with her hands. He stood up proudly, though inside, he was raging. Draco slinked out of the pub and was almost to the door when he saw Justin Finch-Fletchly run into the pub, and the Hufflepuff shouted to his housemates.
"Ginny Weasley is coming back today!" Draco shook his head, confused, and sneered at their jubilance. He had heard that she was ill, at least, that was the rumor. As far as he was concerned, that was one less Weasley he had to be disgusted by. As he walked down the street, he found himself looking toward that old rundown shack where Lupin had gone to wait out his wolfing period and thinking about taking up residence there…he smiled at the thought and decided to check it out, when SMACK! He collided with someone, knocking them both to the ground. He sat up immediately, and scowled when he saw that the perpetrator was Potter.
"Why are you here, Potter? Isn't your girlfriend coming home today?" He spat. The insults came naturally to him. But to his surprise, Potter didn't say anything. And the last thing that Draco remembered before losing himself in the blackness was feeling like he'd been hit by the Hogwarts Express.
a/n: sorry it took me so long to update! The first chapter is always hardest for me…*sigh*. Thanks to purus.flere, Marina Pearl, Fallen Angel of Darkness, and Crystal for all of your reviews, and please leave me more! I'm insatiable, heh.
*august*