Pairing: Ginny/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: I like Dean, but I hate Ginny/Dean. So I wrote this. Love for everyone.
"It wasn't you. It was me."
The words blurred as Ginny looked away, blinking away the start of tears. Dean carried on with his rehearsed speech and Ginny fought for something else to think about as he droned on. It should have been obvious that this was coming; she should have seen it weeks ago. It hurt too much to argue with him right now. Later, she was sure, she would have some choice words. But for now she had to get out of there. The room was becoming suffocating and if she didn't move now, she wouldn't be able to breathe, and oh merlin, she'd have a panic attack.
"Yeah, okay," Ginny muttered and there was a lengthened pause. Obviously she'd spoken when it wasn't her turn. Oh well. "Nice talking to you, Dean, but I need to go." She didn't wait for a confirmation and fled the quiet corner of the common room they'd previously been snogging in (before Dean had uttered the agonizing words). She ignored the concerned calls from Hermione and her brother as she passed. Harry wasn't around, like usual. Off sulking who-knows-where. Not that she'd stop if he had been there, anyway.
She practically leaped through the portrait hole, ignoring the outraged cries that followed her out. The tears were still burning behind her eyes but she couldn't cry them; not yet. Not until she was alone, away from anyone that would know her.
"Where's the fire, Weasel?"
Malfoy's voice nearly kept her running. Ginny didn't need this right now. Really, she didn't need it ever. The hateful lilt of Malfoy's voice was annoying. And unappreciated, but for the first time in minutes, she felt normal. She wasn't running scared from her ex-boyfriend, or shamefully avoiding her friends, and she itched for a fight. Malfoy may not be the one she hated right at the moment, but he was damn close.
"In your pants," she snipped. Malfoy's face darkened at her words but his expression merely edged her on.
"Watch what you say, little weasel, or you'll pay. In more than one way."
Ginny suppressed a shiver and took a step backwards. "You don't scare me."
"Oh no?" Malfoy crept forwards. His sway was like a cat approaching its prey. "Maybe I should."
"Or maybe you should just leave her alone."
Ginny started at the union of another voice. She knew who it was without turning around. Harry. It was always Harry who saved her. First from Tom, now from Malfoy... And maybe from Dean, her inner voice continued. Ginny scowled at the thought. She didn't need Harry saving her from anyone, especially Dean or Malfoy.
"I can handle this myself, Harry," Ginny said, finally finding her voice. The edge of anger surged back, taking the reigns of control with it. "I didn't ask for you to but in here! I was doing fine on my own!"
"Yeah," Harry agreed with a snort, "you sure looked fine. Backing up like a hurt animal and your face as white as chalk."
"You have a way with words, Potter," Malfoy observed. He ignored Ginny and turned his full attention to his rival. "Have you ever considered a position in Death Eating? I hear they kill well."
Silence fell as both Ginny and Harry digested Malfoy's words. And then, hell broke loose.
"Mr. Malfoy," a voice snapped, "ten points from Slytherin."
Malfoy's expression would have been priceless if Ginny hadn't been so dumbfounded. Professor Snape, of all people, had deducted points from his own House. From Malfoy, no less. Harry looked no better than her, his eyes comically wide and holding the wall for support. Although, now that she thought about it, he'd been leaning against the wall since he'd joined them. Was he sick? Or hurt?
"But--Professor Snape--I--"
"Think twice before you speak."
Ginny watched baffled as the professor stalked off, his robes billowing behind him. He was heading in the opposite direction of the dungeons and she wondered what he was doing.
"This isn't over Potter. Weasel." Malfoy's gray eyes glinted in the torchlight at her and Ginny suppressed another shiver. No, she knew it was far from over. For her, perhaps, it had just started.
"What was that all about?" Harry demanded, as soon as the Slytherin had retreated. "Has been harassing you?"
"No," Ginny was quick to assure, "he hasn't. He's just so annoying and I was itching for a fight, and he was there... and why am I telling you this?"
"Because of my roguishly good looks?" Harry quipped.
Ginny bit her lip, musing over his question. Harry never joked like this, especially in front of her. It was almost like he was ... flirting with her. But this was Harry! Harry would never do something like this. Ever.
"And your dashing charm," Ginny grinned. Well, might as well play along when she could. "And you have this thing."
"Just a thing?"
"Well," Ginny shrugged angelically, "many things, but this thing... the people saving thing I mean... you're my hero!" she swooned. And it was the truth. He did save her, many times over, and he would save her from Dean. She could feel it. But suddenly, she noticed the whole atmosphere of the hallway had changed into something dreadfully chilly. It was like someone had flicked a switch. Harry's once playful grin was gone, leaving a tightlipped frown in it's place. His eyes, which had been unusually vivid, were blank. "Harry?" she asked carefully. When she got no response she took a step towards him. He flinched away from her, and much like Malfoy, left in a hurry.
"And that, Miss Weasley, is why you shouldn't bother with Potter."
Ginny looked up at the return of the teacher. Professor Snape looked at her with the same bored expression he did in class.
"What do you mean?"
"He doesn't appreciate what he wants, and what he does have, he treats like trash. Much like another celebrity that once had been in our school." She knew he was speaking of Professor Lockhart. While she may agree about her previous teacher, she didn't about Harry.
"He doesn't know any other way," Ginny said softly. He didn't mean to close people out. He didn't mean to get angry. He didn't mean to be a burden. But she'd heard all the tales from Ron. The cupboard, bars on the windows, starving him, possible abuse (although no one had proof about this one; wild speculation at the most).
"Maybe he just needs someone to teach it to him then."
Ginny's lips twitched in response. It was amazing, really. Professor Snape... giving advice.
"And he did accomplish what you left the Tower originally for," her teacher continued.
Ginny blinked, "Um... how did you--" But Snape was right. Harry had. She'd forgotten all about the breakup.
"Mr. Finnigan has been serving detention for the past three hours for giving Mr. Thomas breakup advice."
"I..." Ginny's mouth flopped opened. First house points from Slytherin, advice, and now this... "I don't know what to say, professor."
"Good. A thank you could result in detention. Now," a cross look crossed Snape's face, "Prefect or not, it is approaching curfew. Off to the tower now, Miss Weasley."
"Yes, sir," Ginny gave the Potions Master a grateful smile before turning away and heading back towards the tower. Only after taking a few steps forward did someone join her. Ginny didn't need to look to know Harry had returned.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was my fault. What I said--"
"I overreacted. And I'm sorry about Dean, too. I know you really liked him."
Ginny glanced sideways at him. He was trying, Ginny could see that, even when he didn't want to. "Eh. I was just passing my time." Harry's hand brushed over her's and Ginny felt a thrill race through her. "Better things are just around the corner."
She could feel it.
For both of them.