Does Hurt Ever Go Away?

Forgot to mention: I don't own any of Harry Potter at all. So there.

By Moony

Thanks to my two reviewers! –Moony

Chapter 2

The sun touched the edge of the window, and Ginny sat wide awake. She couldn't sleep deeply anymore. No. Ever since Ron had died, she kept having nightmares. Nightmares of Ron dying, or nightmares of Dad dying. She could never, ever sleep without a dream.

And thank god it was morning.

Ginny did not like the dark anymore. It wasn't that she was afraid of the dark. She didn't believe that anyone was truly afraid of the dark itself, but of the terrible things it reminded you of. Whenever Ginny saw dark, it was like the Dementors had swooped down on her, but it wasn't a feeling of never being happy again, it was a feeling of terror. Engulfing terror.

"Poor thing, wakes up at six o'clock, tosses in her sleep. I daresay she needs some counseling," she heard a voice say.

Ginny gritted her teeth. Everyone was treating her like some sort of… well, she wasn't sure what it was called, but it was so horrible. It made her feel even worse, where people were simply whispering, feeling sorry for her. It didn't make her feel any better. She knew they were only trying to help, all the teachers who tired to be nicer to her, the kids who left her alone. It didn't help, not at all.

She knew who she needed to talk to most. She needed to talk to Harry. She needed to know, how Ron died… but Harry wasn't talking. So who could she turn to? She had never really had any best friends. Mostly she had relied on herself. But now Ginny was tired of keeping everything in. She needed to talk to someone.

It was potions next. She had come to like potions now. It was the only class where the professor wasn't trying to be nice to her. She kind of liked Snape's meanness, now, after so much pity. She wasn't that weak. And so potions was next.

Ginny hurried through the dungeons, past all the people who stopped their giggling to move away somewhere else and she jumped into a chair with her cauldron, as Snape's glittering eyes moved to rest on her.

She was trying to be like Harry and Ron. How they would retort back when they got mad. Snape was something she could take her anger on, and he wouldn't go all mushy and nice on her either.

Snape's eyes glittered malevolently as Ginny strode into his classroom without a word.

Yes Snape, it's bully the last Weasley left at Hogwarts hour, isn't it? Ginny thought, flashing Snape a sneer. He did nothing, but swept outside into the dungeons to call the others in.

The other fourth-years filed in, and sat down. No one sat on either side of Ginny, maybe trying to give her 'alone time', but Ginny didn't mind. This class was for torturing Snape, and she could do so because she was going to learn from Ron, and Harry, and Fred, and George. She had it all armed under her – and she could do anything. The teachers would tell Snape, "Oh poor Ginny! Her father and her brother died, she's just feeling not well Severus!"

Ginny smiled. Yes, it was a perfect opportunity.

She took her and under her desk, muttered "Reducto!"

She hastily stuffed her wand inside her pocket, and watched in satisfaction as the shelves became a fine dust, and all the various jars and bowls came smashing down. Harry had taught that spell her, and it was good that he did. She grinned as Snape's eyes glittered even more evilly, anger written all over his face.

"Reparo!" he hissed and pointed his wand at every thing that had been smashed. Except for the shelf, which would not repair, as it was fine dust.

Ginny smiled as she pointed her wand at a Slytherin and whispered, "Rictusempra!"

All of a sudden, the girl started rolling on the floor, laughing uncontrollably and shrieking, "Stop it! Stop it!"

And then she turned around to Snape's desk, and whispered, "Diffindo!"

Suddenly, Snape was towering above her, "WEASLEY! I WILL NOT TAKE THIS HAVOC ANC CHAOS YOU ARE CAUSING IN MY CLASS! TO THE HEADMASTER WITH YOU!"

Ginny simply sneered, "Fine, off I go then!" she said and strode off.

Of course, she had already done this what, eleven times? It was nothing new. But she hadn't been sent to Dumbledore's office. It had always been McGonagall's office, which wans't anything to be scared about at all. McGonagall simply lectured Ginny and told her grief shouldn't make her angry or something like that.

By the third time she had been sent, she had stopped going. And nobody really cared. But now, she knew Dumbledore could sense lies. Did he know she was going to skip his office? Did he know that Snape had sent her there?

Ginny did not want to see Dumbledore. He was the reason Dad had died. It was his fault. Why hadn't he give Dad a quieter assignment? A safer one? Ginny remembered the last assignment where Dad had nearly died, last year, when he was guarding the Department of Mysteries, and a snake had come. Lucky Harry had been there to see it.

But Harry had not been there to see Dad die in wherever Dumbledore had put him. No one was there to save him that time. Ginny found herself in front of the gargoyle of Dumbledore's office. Did she dare go in?

Then she realized the gargoyle was password protected, of course, and Ginny had no clue what the password was. She stared at it for a while, and was going to leave, and just be alone, like she always as when Snape sent her to McGonagall's, but the gargoyle opened and Dumbledore swept out.

He smiled at her, "Miss Weasley! Have you been sent to see me?"

How could he smile? How could he talk in that so cheery voice? How could his eyes twinkle so playfully? How could he – how dare he, when he was the reason Dad was dead? Ginny swallowed.

"Yes, but I don't want to see you. So good-bye!" she snapped, and was ready to leave.

But Dumbledore's long fingers had made their way to her shoulder. She shivered. They were eerily warm, yet cold at the same time.

"What do you want?" she whimpered.

Her stone heart was melting. The tears were beginning to come again. She tried to wipe them away before he saw, but he did.

"Why don't you come in my office, Ginerva?" he asked gently.

Ginny looked up, startled. No one had called her Ginerva for a long time. She stood up and walked into Dumbledore's office. She would've paid anything to sink into the floor, of all people, Dumbledore had to see her cry.

She gazed at the office sullenly. Fawkes was sitting on his perch, and the other portraits were apparently taking a nap. Ginny stared at the floor, determined not to stare into Dumbledore's piercing eyes.

"What is the matter, I have heard that you've caused some wreakage in Professor Snape's classroom many times. Is there something wrong?"

Of course there's something wrong you pinhead! My dad's dead, Ron's dead! Stop looking so innocent! Ginny thought.

"N-no sir," she said.

"Ginny, if you are still grieving, there is nothing to be ashamed of. But you cannot change grief into anger. It does not help. It causes danger, and in the end, you will destroy yourself. Losing is hard. And perhaps you have heard this countless times, but life does go on," he said gently.

Ginny glared. She had heard this too many times.

"Yeah, well guess what? Life doesn't go on! What's the point of life without a dad, or a brother? It's all your fault! You sent my dad away, and now you're trying to act all innocent, but you're not! Everything is ruined! Quit playing games with me! Leave me alone!"

Ginny stood up from her seat and stormed to the door, she waited for Dumbledore to stop her, waited for him to ask her to stay. But he did not. She ran all the way to the door and wrenched it open, then fled down the staircase, tears spilling down her cheeks as she ran. Corridors and staircases flew by as she blindly ran into the Great Hall, then pushed open the doors of Hogwarts.

The grounds greeted her and the wind felt cool on her face as Ginny slowed down and began to tak it at a walk. The skies were blue, and the birds were making their cheerful songs. But Ginny did not feel cheerful.

She sat on the grass again, staring at the sky, and wondering. Why was the world so cruel? Why were some people spared, and some people killed? How come someone had to create a person like Voldemort on this earth? How come, whoever created this world, had made everything peaceful and happy? How come they had to throw in sorrow, and hurt, and anger? How come they had to throw in evil?

She felt ashamed of herself. If she was mad at Dumbledore, then how come she wasn't mad at Harry? Both of them were the reasons she had a dead brother and dad, yet, she was mad at Dumbledore, and not Harry. And as Ginny thought of it, she still could not be mad at Harry. Because the childhood crush she had had at eleven years old had never quite died away. Though she had dated Michael Corner and Dean Thomas, the crush inside her was never forgotten. She still loved him.

Ginny laid back and stared at the white clouds floating in the sky, and closed her eyes, wondering, wondering…