"Every year since first year she had tried to be strong, in hopes of forgetting the one time when she had been truly weak"
**********
Ginny Weasley was looking at the current situation from a slightly detached point of view. Harry had just hugged her, was still hugging her. Things like that didn't happen everyday.
Scratch that.
Things like this never happened to her, except for in a few rare and pleasant dreams. Back when she used to have pleasant dreams of course.
Is he actually hugging me? She felt like pinching herself to make sure this wasn't a dream. The world seemed hazier and clearer all at the same time. Is this real?
The shock of the moment started to wear off and Ginny slowly became aware of the feeling of Harry's arms around her, the feeling of the tears that were slowing starting to run down her face, the feeling of her cheek against the rough fabric of Harry's robe. And most importantly of all, Ginny slowly became aware that Harry Potter was actually, truly, honest to god, hugging her.
His arms held her tightly, as though he were afraid of what would happen if he let go. Ginny absently realized that her arms were now around Harry's waist, drawing him to her. She was the happiest she had ever been and the saddest all at once.
Why does my life have to be so messed up?
Ginny thought about Harry, memories flashing through her head. Memories of that day at King's Cross when a shy black-haired boy had asked how to get to Platform nine and three-quarters. Memories of the mortification on Valentine's Day first year when Fred and George had sent that wretched Valentine. Memories of waking up in Chamber of Secrets and seeing Harry sitting beside her covered in blood and dirt and dying from the basilisk's venom, all the while reassuring her that everything was okay. Memories of his smile and his laugh. Countless memories of Harry lying unconscious in the infirmary beds. Memories of all the heart-wrenching pain he went through that she could somehow feel as well. Memories of all the dreadful, agonizing moments when she thought that she'd lost him and would lose a piece of herself as well. Memories of her dreams and the future they foretold.
Ginny started sobbing uncontrollably. She cried for herself and she cried for Harry. For the unfair circumstances that they'd both had to endure in their young lives. She cried for the lives that Voldemort destroyed and the dreams that he shattered. She cried over the feeling that she was losing her only chance to truly love. Ginny knew she could never give her heart to anyone else. She cried for the choices that she had to make and the lies she had to tell and tug of war that was ripping her soul apart. Ginny poured out her heart in tears of longing, pain, and despair.
And all the while, Harry held her steadily, rubbing her back in slow up and down motions and resting his cheek against her vibrant red hair. He murmured quiet assurances while her tears drenched his robes.
Harry'd never seen Ginny cry like this before. He'd seen her embarrassed, he'd seen her frustrated, he'd seen her angry, and he'd seen her with tears in her eyes, but he'd never seen her cry with this amount of pain and emotion. Harry could almost feel her emotions, they were so powerful. Even in her weakness, Ginny was strong.
Slowly Ginny's tears started to subside. Her face was still pressed up against Harry's chest and she tried to bury her head deeper as though doing so would close out the world. Still clinging to him, she released a deep shuddering breath and Harry hugged her closer as if to reassure himself that she was all right. Taking another shaky breath, Ginny tilted her head upwards.
When he hugged Ginny, it felt right. That's the only way that Harry knew to describe what he was feeling. And then when she tilted her head up towards his and smiled, well that felt even better. It made him feel like he'd helped somehow and it made him feel special. It wasn't The Boy Who Lived kind of special though, it was another kind entirely. A better kind.
Ginny after she'd cried was an interesting sight. Her eyes and nose were red and puffy, as well as her lips. Tear tracks streamed down her face and her skin-tone was uneven. She looked entirely fragile, but also as though a weight had been lifted off her. Her brown eyes seemed brighter and clearer. She looked amazing.
At Ginny's hesitant smile, Harry broke into a grin. A last single tear was trailing down her face and he brushed it away softly with the pad of his thumb and then tucked behind her ear the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face.
"Feeling better?" he asked softly.
"Uh huh," Ginny assented as she drew in another unsteady breath.
"Good, I'm glad," Harry said.
They stood looking at each other for a moment before slowly untangling their arms and stepping away from each other. They both turned away and looked in the direction of Gryffindor Tower trying to avoid each other's gazes. Neither of them moved from the spots they were standing in.
Harry brought his hand through his hair and wondered if he should say anything else. He didn't want to say anything that would make her cry again, but he felt like he should say something.
Why am I feeling so bloody nervous?
Ginny brought her arms up to hug herself and counteract the loss she felt at the absence of Harry's arms. Thoughts were flying through her head at light speed. Did that really happen? Did I really let that happen? Oh god, that felt nice. Ginny brought up her right hand to tuck a few unruly strands of hair behind her ear and sighed. At least it had been nice to let out all those tears. It shouldn't have happened in the first place though. She stole a quick glance at Harry, who was pushing his wire-framed glasses back up his nose. Whatever happened to avoiding him, her inner voice questioned.
Ginny paused to think about why she had let her plan falter. She should never have let Harry walk her back, as tempting and as harmless as it had seemed. Why hadn't she just stuck with her plan? She should've had the will-power to avoid this situation.
I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.
This thought brought Ginny's grim emotional state from distressed to downright despondent. Every year since first year she had tried to be strong, in hopes of forgetting the one time when she had been truly weak. Strength was the virtue that Ginny craved desperately and the one she had almost fooled herself into believing she had. No matter, she thought painfully as she tried to shake her head of all her failings, as soon as we reach the common room it's back to plan A. It's no loss if a girl like me doesn't have will-power, so long as Harry doesn't get hurt.
Ginny slowly came to the realization that both she and Harry had been quiet for quite a few moments. He was looking at her again with those piercing green eyes of his as though she were a puzzle he was wanted to solve. If she weren't careful, someday he would.
"Stop it, would ya?" Ginny said quietly to the boy by her side.
"Stop what?" His eyes cleared and he focused in on Ginny.
"Stop looking at me like that, like I'm some sort of spell you haven't quite figured out yet."
Had he been looking at her like that? Harry had been thinking to ask if she wanted to continue back to the common room when he had caught the look on Ginny's face. She had look…haunted.
What kinds of things are going on in that girl's head?
Harry paused. Okay, so maybe he did want to figure her out. Was that a crime?
"I don't know what you're talking about it," he said loftily. Just because he admitted it to himself didn't mean he was going to tell her.
"Fine," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes as she started toward the common room.
Harry caught up with her in a few long strides. Was she mad at him?
Ginny ignored Harry and let her eyes wander over to the windows, hoping to see if the stars had been affected by her fall from grace. Instead, she came face to face with her reflection.
Harry noticed that had Ginny stopped, and looked in her direction. She was staring at Hogwarts' large glass windows. Harry loved this time of night. When the stars were shinning and the moon was glowing but it wasn't yet time to surrender to dreams. That's what it was, surrendering. Harry had given up trying to fight his nightmares long ago. He couldn't change the contents of them, and sleep deprivation took too much of a toll on his body. A dreamless sleep potion was out of the question. He didn't want to become dependent on an addictive potion. So he surrendered. Every night. He felt like he was losing a fight every time he laid down within the scarlet covers of his bed and drew together the curtains. But in this time of night, the time between classes and Quidditch practice and homework and sleep, he could feel somewhat free. He could look at the stars and wish that he was one of them. For a moment in time he could simply be a boy, instead of having to be The Boy Who Lived.
He turned his gaze to where Ginny was looking and was surprised to see her reflection staring back at him. The distinctive redness of her hair was dimmed of course, as well as the features of her face. The reflection was somewhat transparent and Harry could see small stars shining through her crimson locks. It looked like she had diamonds sparkling in her hair.
"I look dreadful, don't I?" Ginny asked as she spun around to face him.
Dreadful? Where could she have gotten that idea? Harry looked at Ginny and was surprised not to see the shining stars in her hair. She was still a little red around the eyes and nose and Harry could see the remains of tear tracks shining on her checks, but she didn't look dreadful, far from it actually.
"You look fine," he replied.
"Well," Ginny said while eyeing Harry as though she didn't entirely trust his opinion, "Do you mind if I go stop in the bathroom?"
Ginny gestured vaguely to the bathroom across the hall.
"No. Go ahead."
"You can head back without me," Ginny suggested with a hopeful lilt to her voice. The sooner she could get away from Harry, the better.
"I'll stay here."
Ginny looked as if she wanted to argue with him. She looked at Harry closely and then sighed as if deciding that arguing would take too much energy. She gave a slight shake of her head and another sigh before turning towards the girl's bathroom.
As Ginny headed off towards the bathroom, Harry wondered if she ever went in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the 2nd floor. Personally, he tried to avoid it at all costs. It reminded him of 2nd year and the Chamber of Secrets. I wonder if Ginny thinks about it much anymore.
Harry tried to brush away the memories of seeing Ginny lifeless on the floor that always surfaced when he thought about the Chamber. He had become more skilled at brushing away the memories over the years, or at least bracing himself against them. If only it helped. There are far too many bad memories for me to brush them all away.