The Past
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He wouldn't. Slowly glancing around he noticed a silhouette shadow at his feet. Looking up, he saw a fiery red head with a spatula in one hand, and a cooking mitten in the other. Could this be who he thought it was? Before initial shock could kick in, the mysterious woman turned around. It was Ginny. "Hey sweets," she said, "I'm just finishing up breakfast. Care to join me?"
Harry stood flabbergast. "Uh...umm," he stuttered for a while. "Well?" "Sure," he finally said. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was here. At Grimauld place. With Ginny. Ginny... he pondered for a moment. 'What was she doing here? I thought she never wanted to see me again. I thought she hated me.' And it was true. After Ron was murdered, she, like her family, in turn turned on Harry. He could still remember the last thing she ever said to him after she packed her bags, ready to leave Grimauld place and go back to living with her family. Harry was sitting on the stairs that led to the door. He watched as Ginny, in frustration, levitated all of her things to the front door, calling Harry foul names and cursing him out in her spare breath. Harry was heartbroken. He loved her so much and now he was nothing more to her then a dusty dirty rug that needed beating. Even though he didn't show it- any tears and lamentation- the grief was visible and it showed plastered on is face. His world was crumbling before his eyes. But he wasn't ready for what she was about to say. Her hand on the knob of the door, turning her heel, she glared at him.
"Harry," she paused, "I have nothing but deep loathing for you..." "Ginny... please... don't leave me." "You've ruined me Harry!" she yelled. "Do you expect me to forgive you? Forget all that has happened in the last month?!" "Ginny please don't..." "Because of you, Ron is dead, Percy has turned, and I can't forget that! I hate you!" She lowered her voice. "I hate you..." Harry was at the bottom of the steps now, on his knees, crying a river. "Ginny, please don't leave me. I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry... I'm sorry!" Ginny looked at him in disgust. "Humph! Don't give me you pity... You should see yourself right now...you're pathetic POTTER. I can't forget Harry... and I won't forgive." And she slammed the door. Harry stayed in the position he was in for quite some time before his anger got the best of him. In rage, he went around destroying the house. Since his God Father Sirius's death, he began living there. He just couldn't stand living with the Dursleys after what had happened in his fifth year. So he moved in. But since the attack at the school the Order of the Phoenix was now stationed at the school. The Weasleys moved back to their house. Ginny was the last Weasley to leave. Soon Harry isolated himself. So Dumbledore sent him back to the Dursleys. And now he was. Standing in a kitchen of the past with the love of his life.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He wouldn't. Slowly glancing around he noticed a silhouette shadow at his feet. Looking up, he saw a fiery red head with a spatula in one hand, and a cooking mitten in the other. Could this be who he thought it was? Before initial shock could kick in, the mysterious woman turned around. It was Ginny. "Hey sweets," she said, "I'm just finishing up breakfast. Care to join me?"
Harry stood flabbergast. "Uh...umm," he stuttered for a while. "Well?" "Sure," he finally said. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was here. At Grimauld place. With Ginny. Ginny... he pondered for a moment. 'What was she doing here? I thought she never wanted to see me again. I thought she hated me.' And it was true. After Ron was murdered, she, like her family, in turn turned on Harry. He could still remember the last thing she ever said to him after she packed her bags, ready to leave Grimauld place and go back to living with her family. Harry was sitting on the stairs that led to the door. He watched as Ginny, in frustration, levitated all of her things to the front door, calling Harry foul names and cursing him out in her spare breath. Harry was heartbroken. He loved her so much and now he was nothing more to her then a dusty dirty rug that needed beating. Even though he didn't show it- any tears and lamentation- the grief was visible and it showed plastered on is face. His world was crumbling before his eyes. But he wasn't ready for what she was about to say. Her hand on the knob of the door, turning her heel, she glared at him.
"Harry," she paused, "I have nothing but deep loathing for you..." "Ginny... please... don't leave me." "You've ruined me Harry!" she yelled. "Do you expect me to forgive you? Forget all that has happened in the last month?!" "Ginny please don't..." "Because of you, Ron is dead, Percy has turned, and I can't forget that! I hate you!" She lowered her voice. "I hate you..." Harry was at the bottom of the steps now, on his knees, crying a river. "Ginny, please don't leave me. I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry... I'm sorry!" Ginny looked at him in disgust. "Humph! Don't give me you pity... You should see yourself right now...you're pathetic POTTER. I can't forget Harry... and I won't forgive." And she slammed the door. Harry stayed in the position he was in for quite some time before his anger got the best of him. In rage, he went around destroying the house. Since his God Father Sirius's death, he began living there. He just couldn't stand living with the Dursleys after what had happened in his fifth year. So he moved in. But since the attack at the school the Order of the Phoenix was now stationed at the school. The Weasleys moved back to their house. Ginny was the last Weasley to leave. Soon Harry isolated himself. So Dumbledore sent him back to the Dursleys. And now he was. Standing in a kitchen of the past with the love of his life.
