Only You Can Understand

She wondered why it was this time of year that always taunted her the most. Why it was now, less than a week until first term began, that her nightmares came. It has been this way for the past three years; every single day within the first two weeks of term she saw the past flash freshly in front of her sleeping eyes. She could see his scribbled, yet neat, handwriting flare across the diary. She could still see the words he wrote of comfort and encouragement to face down her fears.

She was morally horrified by the reality of it all; the way she had opened herself up to someone she shouldn't have. She still felt her eyes fill with tears when she thought of her past, the horrid way she used to depend on Tom. The way she needed to talk to him, to spill out her worries; he was her best friend. She hated a part of herself for needing him. She hated part of herself for considering him her best friend. But most of all, she hated the part of her that loved him.

It was one of those nights when he came back, clear as crystal, as dark and as evil as he turned out to be. She could see herself writing to him, needing him... loving him, as she dreamed this night. It was then she crept down the stairs of the Burrow, sitting down at the table, lighting the three nearest candles. She sat in silence, dwelling on the past. Dwelling the only way she knew how to dwell. Alone, in the cold, dark night, fighting back hatred and tears.

But this night was going to be different for her.

In his bedroom, Harry had awoke, in a cold sweat, another dream of Sirius falling through the veil was filling his thoughts and consuming his every emotion, changing them to pure and deep depression. It was hard for him to stare up at the ceiling, and not dwell on Sirius and the loss that had caused him pain beyond anything he had ever known. He sat still, but after five minutes he heaved himself off his bed, which was lying adjacent to Ron's, and reached for his glasses.

Careful not to wake anyone, he pushed the door open and passed Ginny's room, and then the twin's vacant room. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was startled to see someone sitting at the kitchen table. Ginny.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Ginny apologized, clearing her throat.

"I - I couldn't sleep," said Harry, before Ginny could interrogate him; but she was uninterested. For once she felt like being alone and yet, it was

Harry. The Harry who she used to pray would talk to her.

"Neither could I."

Harry sat at the table, facing across from her, as he rubbed his tired eyes. When he opened his eyes again, he caught a glimpse of Ginny running a cloth over her face before sighing with no sign of content.

"Nightmare."

"Same."

"What about?"

Ginny looked uncomfortable and Harry immediately felt that if he could take his words back, he certainly would. Words unspoken, Ginny stared into the darkness.

"Tom Riddle."

Harry's eyes traveled up to her face. "Riddle?" She nodded her head as an indication and his face fell. His second year seemed so long ago, and all this time Ginny still remembered it; how much she thought about it, he didn't know, but because it was such a long time he wondered if it was on her thoughts a lot. "It's been a long time."

"I remember it clearly," she said, her voice gathering strength in the darkness.

"That's not fair."

Ginny stifled a laugh, "I'm surprised to hear that. Especially coming from you." Before he could ask her to elaborate she continued, "You've faced more in a year than I have in my entire life. And you still tell me that what I go through isn't fair." Her voice softened sympathetically. "You never deserved anything."

Harry looked up at her, smiling softly. He seemed to have a better recollection of what Riddle had told in the Chamber, now that Ginny mentioned it. "You were so young"

She smiled at him, "So were you... when everything happened."

Harry found himself waving the comment off; but he wasn't sure why. Didn't he want to talk, like Ginny is now, to clear his conscience and to sooth the pain? Ginny was trying to be strong, her face was set; he could see it in the darkness. "He hurt you, didn't he?"

Ginny tried to keep her voice balanced but failed, "Only emotionally."

Harry looked incredulous. "I bet if emotional scars became physical, you'd have a lightning bolt to match mine."

"Hardly," said Ginny, her voice rasping a bit. "I was just emotionally attached to him"

"An emotion so strong that it almost made him alive again," Harry said before he could stop himself. He was waiting for her to scold him, but her voice was, with much effort, balanced.

"It's that thought that haunts me most," her voice hollowed. "That I was so... so i stupid /i ... so foolish enough to care about him"

"You were young," Harry soothed. For a moment, Harry thought he saw a tear fall down Ginny's cheek, but after a clearer glance there was nothing. She wasn't Cho, Harry reminded himself. She could talk about things without crying; she was stronger than that. Harry felt deep admiration, and a sort of difference form inside himself. When Cho would get emotional, Harry found himself running away, or wanting to, at least. He wanted no part in the comforting process. But it was different with Ginny. He could talk and listen and comfort with Ginny. He could be more comfortable with Ginny... and yet...

"Could you imagine, Harry?" Ginny asked rhetorically. "Pouring your heart into a black hole... that will eventually suck you in? Could you imagine loving someone you're not supposed to? Could you imagine dwelling on it... dreaming of it?"

Harry sat in silence. He had never thought of anything like this before. He never imagined that Riddle meant what he had said, "She simply loved me." How could Ginny care so much for Riddle? He didn't register his own thoughts, he wondered about how a girl like Ginny, who seemed so strong right now, was so weak at one point. Was, at one time, lying in the Chamber as he sprinted toward her, feeling her cold hand...

"You told him everything?"

Ginny laughed a hollow laugh. "Everything from my family life, to my deepest ambitions and even my crush on you." Harry frowned at her, and she waved impatiently. "It's just the past. I relive the past around this time of year, each year since it's happened."

Harry blurted out before he could stop himself, "Why?"

"Because it was this time of year I met him. It was this time of year I talked to him, when I was eleven. It was this time, today, when I began telling him my feelings... it's when I began a habit that almost got many, many people killed. And I see him... I see him all the time, in my dreams, this time of year."

"I'm sorry, Ginny."

"What for? I should be thanking you for saving me; for destroying the thing that nearly ruined everything for me."

"I had no idea this still went on - I had no idea that you thought you knew him so clearly, and that you still remembered everything. And I had no idea that you knew this all so well... like a nightmare that keeps returning."

"I expect it'll get better," mused Ginny. "Once I learn how to forgive myself."

"We all make mistakes," Harry said, his voice cracking. He had made the biggest mistake of his life. Traveling to the Ministry of Magic... to the

death of his godfather.

"The first year is the hardest," Ginny whispered; Harry felt that she knew. Somehow, Ginny knew what Harry meant; and she did. "It's hardest to talk when you can't get your emotions straight. Where you don't know whether to scream... whether to cry and shut yourself up in your room..."

It was odd to Harry that Ginny could tell him all he was feeling. That she could offer him advice - help him to forgive himself in a way no other person, in all the attempts, had been able to. Ginny was right. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know how to cry... he didn't know how to scream. He only was just teaching himself apathy.

"Is it - is it hard to talk about?" he asked, his voice holding an unsure tone.

"Not if you have the right person to talk to," she said quietly.

"I hope I'm not that bad of a listener"

"Best yet," she said, giving him a little smile.

"I didn't think you understood that well..." Something seemed to catch his mind. "Ginny, I haven't really... well, I haven't really ever thought you could do the things you can. I don't know if you can tell, but I have underestimated you for a good year now... and somehow, even longer."

Ginny looked bewildered, "When did this happen?"

"Just all the times that we excluded you from everything"

"That was Ron," she said, smiling.

"I didn't go against it, did I? And then how I wasn't sure about your hexes. And how I didn't want you to come with us to the Ministry - and, and... and now. With your ability to understand how... how stupid I feel, I just"

"It gets easier," she repeated. "Over time."

"Time's one thing I haven't got a lot of," he said, more to himself than her.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Why do you say that? It may take years, Harry, to forgive (it's very hard to forget, as well), but you're young... you'll be able to move on with your life..."

"That's not - Ginny - I just..." he looked away, avoiding her eye. "I'll tell you when the time is right. When I need to."

"I respect that choice. You tell when you want to tell... Do Hermione and Ron know?"

"No," Harry said uncomfortably. "I'll tell them... eventually."

"Take your time; tell when you want to... and tell who you want to know. Even if that person isn't me," Ginny added on, looking uncomfortable herself.

"Maybe we could talk about it sometime... just when I need to talk..."

"Ron and Hermione will be there," said Ginny. Harry got the odd sensation that Ginny was pulling away. Did she not want to know?

"Look, if you don't want to know"

"It's not that..." Ginny sighed, "They are your best friends, Harry. The best of the best - you go to them; I've seen you do it a hundred times - that's your relationship with them. I don't want to intrude."

Harry went to say, "Maybe they won't understand," but changed his mind and settled with, "I do tell them, Gin. I know that... but you..."

"But me what?" she smiled, in a mild anticipating sort-of-way.

"You're good to talk to," he said.

He had always been able to talk to Hermione about problems and Ron about fun things - but what Ginny, he could get both. He has gotten both. He remembered the first night he got to the Burrow - it was on his birthday and he was celebrating. She walked into the room, her hair he soft braids, he remembered. She had sat down next to him with a friendly hello and gave him a Snitch. Harry had wondered where she had gotten it, but she laughed and told him to keep it secret. And that he should start practicing; he was going to be starting at Seeker again and needed to be more equipped...

And now, he almost told her about the Prophecy and he talked to her about Tom Riddle... he was understanding her better than he ever thought he could.

She thanked him and smiled before saying, "You now what I think we should do tomorrow after we packed? Fly around... just to get that feel again, eh?"

Harry grinned through the darkness and her smile brightened. Unnoticed by her, Harry felt a little blush creep us his face and he didn't know why. It was another two hours before Mrs. Weasley wandered into the kitchen. Their laughter had waken her up and she sent them off to bed. They walked up the stairs, still amused by the stories they had shared. It wasn't long before they reached Ginny's room and their voice fell to a whisper.

"You know tonight, Harry..." Ginny smiled at him, able to see his face in the darkness. "Tonight was great."

He smiled, "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

She rested her hand on the doorknob before saying, "Follow your own

advice and believe your own words." He nodded to her. "Feel better. You deserve to."

"Have better dreams," he said, as a grateful thank you.

"You too," she smiled, before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Harry reached up to touch his cheek as Ginny's door closed shut softly. He sat there, dazed for a moment, grinning like an idiot.

A/N: Hey, the continuation of this story (plus some other fics I'll put up) is now posted on mugglenet fanfiction under the name of MPPMarauderGirl. I'm writing again, but I can only post on mugglenet (my servers compatible with that, and fanfiction isn't). And thanks to my bestest buddy for posting this for me (love you, Melly). Thanks, guys.