Just One

A/N: I'm hoping this comes out SAD! I want you to finish this either respecting me or hating me! Let's see how it goes.

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Summary: She pines away for the man that she's slowly fallen in love with. She wants so much to hate him for being who he is. She wants to hex him because he knows so much, yet shows so little. She wants to scowl at him... at the thought of him even. Yet all she can do is cry...

Just One

She sits in her bed thinking of the person that should bring her comfort. She's thinking about the Boy-Who-Lived, the boy they all love (now that the truth has been discovered). She doesn't get comfort from him anymore. She doesn't get false hope anymore, either. She wants to scowl at him... at the thought of him even... She wants to hex him for being so thick headed. For being the man he needs to be. For not looking for love... not looking for the one thing he can find.

After a momentary lapse of self at the breakfast table she collapsed on her bed to sob out her eyes. She wanted to rid herself of the thought of him being the clueless boy he was. She hates that he doesn't try at all. She's at the point now where she'd rather he find love with someone; anyone... just make him love anyone, she would pray. Even if she couldn't receive the love she's willing to die for... she'd feel better to know it is with someone else.

She pines away for him. And she thought he was the only one who didn't know. She learned the truth at breakfast. She learned the worst possible thing she could have learned... as a self-conscious sixteen year old girl in love with her brother's best friend. She didn't want to know that he was not as oblivious as she had always thought. She was stable thinking that he would one day realize her love; that he would one day wake up and, like all the guys in the Muggle movies, he would fall madly in love with her... welcoming her with open arms. All of that had been shattered... she's left hopeless now.

Flash Back

Harry and Ron were sitting in the kitchen looking for any food they could gather. That's what happens when there are only three of them in the house.

"Do you suppose Gin can cook?" she had heard Ron ask.

"I suppose," shrugged Harry. "Can I talk to you about her first?"

"Sure, mate," replied Ron; Ginny took a step further towards the bottom of the stairs.

"How's... the plan going?" The plan? Ginny moved even closer.

"Why don't you just give it a go, Harry?"

"I can't pretend to feel something," said Harry shaking his head. "Does she still... you know? Fancy me...?" Ginny gulped rather loudly.

Ron nodded sadly. "She's head over heals, mate."

"I can't believe it, though. I mean... I'd always known she had a crush. But... that much of a crush?"

"Crushes grow," shrugged Ron. Ginny's stomach dropped. "You don't have any feelings?"

"She's like a sister to me," Harry said, shaking his head no.

Ron let out the breath he had been holding. "She still has hope—"

"I can't take it away," said Harry shaking his head. Ginny covered her mouth in horror, taking a step back. "She's a good kid."

Ginny ran up the stairs, tears falling down her face as she ran. She wanted nothing more than to walk into the kitchen scowling at them for talking about her; or to scowl at them for thinking she actually liked Harry. But she couldn't do either. Grief over-did anger; love over-came hate. She could never tell Harry that he was right... but she could never prove him wrong.

End

She cried even harder now, at the unbearable thought as her mind did a flash back to when she had learned that there was no hope. There was no such thing as hope. She had always heard of Pandora and her box; the Greek and Roman Gods were always fascinating to her. But now she doubted if hope really stayed. After Pandora let out all the monsters that have inflicted the world... did hope really stay? Just one thing stayed? Just hope? Just one...?

She stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily, and let herself stop crying. Taking a chance look out the window she saw her brother and Harry out on their broomsticks. Had they tried to ask her? Perhaps Harry thought that she couldn't play... Perhaps he was thinking like a childish boy... Perhaps thoughts are running through his head of what could happen if he spent too much time with her. She allowed herself to scowl out the window again, before making her way downstairs. She couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't stand being left behind... being thought of as a helpless girl; the deceived Weasley daughter.

As she walks down stairs she lets her mind think of all the annoying things Harry does to make him dislikeable. She thinks of his annoying habits of always being a hero; but she can't hate that about him. He saved her life... how could she hate him for saving lives if he had saved her own? She hates the way he thinks of only his own feelings; he doesn't care about hers at all. But as much as that was true... it wasn't. If he didn't care why, two summers ago when he was yelling at them all... why did he apologize for not remembering the fact that she too was deceived and used by You-Know- Who? She thinks for a moment, sitting down in the family room of her home. She could hate the way he was so emotionless? But that too, had some truth and lies to the theory. If he had been so emotionless why had she heard him cry over the death of his beloved Godfather?

And as the two boys walk into the family room sending her sweet hellos, she realizes she can't hate Harry. Nothing in the world could make her hate him. Once again she finds herself wanting to scowl... but she can't. She can cry, she can love him more, even... but she can't scowl. They sit down to play a game of Wizard's Chess. She stares at them for a while as they play game after game, each one having Ron come out victorious. She smiles a little to herself... he wasn't so great after all. He can't even beat her stupid brother at Wizard's Chess.

"Gin?" she looked up to see Harry calling her. "Can you help me?"

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Just one... Just one time," he said quietly. "I'm hopeless by myself."

Ginny nodded, sitting on the floor next to the table where the board was. Harry watched Ron stare at the board determinedly. She looked up at Harry then away. He moved to his left making a spot for her on the couch. Wordless they sat there on the couch. When it was Harry's turn to move he reached towards the table. Ginny quickly pulled his hand away, entwining her fingers with his.

"They won't like it if you touch them during a game," she said quietly, as his hand went limp.

She could have sworn she saw blush creep to his cheeks as he looked at the board. But that was the false hope again. The hope that doesn't exist. Harry Potter didn't go embarrassed when he brushed Ginny Weasley's hand. And she realized... neither does she blush when his and skims hers...

"Old habit," he said shrugging apologetically.

The game went on and Ginny and Harry came close to victory a couple times. All the while Ginny couldn't stand thinking about the boy to her left. The ebony haired hero that was trying to be innocent... he was trying to act younger than he was. Maybe hoping they would take pity... maybe hoping he could have his Godfather back. The familiar half-scowl flies to her face as Ron makes a comment about her and Harry laughs. She looks away again... slipping down onto the floor. It's hard to realize that she can never have the only thing she's ever wanted. She's never had much... she's never wanted much... but she wants him. She wants him more than anyone in the world... And she wants to hate him twice as much.

But as much as she hates him... she can't help but look at herself in a distasteful fashion. She should respect what he's chosen. If he can't fall in love she should understand. If he can't love her she should stop pining away for him. She can't. She's stuck in this neutral area, unable to decide if she should hate or love the Boy-Who-Lived. She used to hope that for just one night she could be his. Just one time he'd ask her out. Just one chance to prove her love. Now she wishes for just one night without confusion. Just one day where she doesn't feel anything when she looks at him. Just one sign of apathy from herself. She can't understand why she has so much emotion and he has none. She knows it's not likely that he'll survive his last encounter with You-Know-Who. The worst part is she doesn't know if she'll cry if he dies. She never knows if you can pine for the dead. She may find herself rejoicing his death. She may find herself happy for once. Even if it's for just one hour, just one day, just one week... she may find herself happy that he's gone. So she doesn't have to battle her emotions, love and hate; so she doesn't have to battle between scowling and crying... Just one month, just one year...

But she hopes when he's gone, she'll be happy for just one lifetime...