What The Shrink Told Me
By forbiddenlight
Disclaimer: Iay ownhay othingnay, otgay? Orhay oday Ihay eednay otay pellsay itay outhay orfay ouyay? Enbay andhad Erryjay's isnthay inemay, eitherhay, otgay itgay?
A/N: Hey, you guys! I am so proud- I've gotten this far, and now there's no turning back! I think this story may make it to ten chapters. Who knows? Anyway, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers and I have something extremely important to tell you!
You, my readers, have the chance to choose which story I will write next. I have 2 different story ideas, but I have absolutely NO idea which one to write first. That's where you come in. All you have to do is type the title of the story of your choosing on the review (either The Hidden or Malfoys Don't Marry Mudbloods)and submit it. It's that simple! You can "vote" as many times as you like. For info about how to do this and to read a "summary" about either one of the stories, please go to my profile (access it by clicking my username. It's in blue (or purple, if you've seen my profile recently) and find the words FUTURE STORIES. Just read what I wrote there. Thanks a bunch, you guys!
So, now, here is chapter seven!
Chapter Seven
July 21st
3:01 AM; Harry & Gin's Penthouse
The sound of muffled footsteps outside the door jolted Ginny out of her sleep. She was laying next to Harry in her bed, her hand on his bare chest. Ginny, in seeing that Harry was sleeping peacefully, his hair completely askew, revealing the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, decided against waking it up. After all, no one knew who she was, or who he was. It was probably housekeeping.
Rubbing her eyes sleepily, Ginny scrutinized the room. It was messy. After the wrestling match, where Ginny had accidentally ripped Harry's shirt in half, they had collapsed on Ginny's bed, and talked about what they wanted to do if they ever returned to London.
It was dark, with the only light coming from the small, muggle alarm clock in the far corner under the picture box Harry called a television. The numbers on the digital clock glowed red. 3:01 AM. That's when it hit her solidly.
Housekeeping didn't get up until seven.
Suddenly Ginny felt wide awake; no longer drowsy or tired. Sliding out of bed, dressed in nothing but a camisole and a pair of sweat shorts, she walked to the door, wand at her side. She unbolted the door and gripped the handle. Turning it, she attempted to open the door, but it just clicked and stayed there.
Ginny felt a wave of hot anger wash over her. Someone knew who she was. She thought of all the people she had spoken to or seen in the past three days, but none came to mind.
Then suddenly a sense of familiarly took over her.
Dolores Uganda.
And with that last, angry thought, Ginny waved her wand violently, screeching-
"Alohomora!" but the door didn't unlock, as she discovered a moment later. It stayed closed, as if super-glued shut.
After trying another series of spells that should've worked but didn't, Ginny Weasley collapsed onto the floor, exhaustion overcoming her...
July 22nd
2:56 PM; Courtroom 11
Ginevra Weasley sat in chains on the lowered platform, trying to stare at the grey stone walls and not the sneering faces of the minister and the Wizengamot. Harry Potter sat at her side, chained as well. Ginny regretted ever dragging him into this.
"Alright, Weasley," the minister, a man with a very hairy mustache that looked as though a rather large and furry animal had fallen asleep right above his mouth and died there. "What do you plead?"
"Guilty," Ginny muttered. The Wizengamot looked surprised. "But I murdered him in-"
"Ha!" the minister yelled happily. "Ha, you've just confessed. You're guilty, Weasley."
"Now, Jacobus," said the woman with a rather hurried and flustered appearance who appeared to be the oldest out of the entire court, except for Albus Dumbledore, who sat in the topmost row, eyeing the convicts, his face tracing no sign of emotion. "You have to let her finish."
"No, he doesn't," said a high-pitched, girly voice from the mouth of a rather repulsive woman who slightly resembled a toad. "He doesn't have to-"
"May I remind you," said a deep voice suddenly. Ginny locked eyes with Albus Dumbledore. "That on page 678 in section 23c article 9 it says the convicted have the right to present their de-"
"I know what it says, Dumbledore! Alright then, Weasley, go on. But make it snappy." the minister, who went by the name Jacobus Jenkins, snapped.
"I am guilty," Ginny said loudly, her voice wavering. "Of the murder of Michael Corner. But I acted in self-defense."
"Self defense? Self defense?" Jenkins called incredulously. "Explain yourself."
"On July 13th I walked into Corner's office in midmorning, expecting to speak with a credited therapist. But the doctor hid his face behind a newspaper until I had explained why I was sitting in his office. He then removed the paper and I recognized who he was- Michael Corner. I dated him in fourth year at Hogwarts. He forced himself on me, and raped me. When it was over, I looked into his cold blue eyes. He told me than that-" a tear followed by another tear rolled down her cheek "-that if I-I told anyone I w-would d-die. I t-told him that he w-would n-never get away with it. Then h-he took up his wand, and yelled 'then go to hell, Weasley'! I spotted my wand three feet from my bloodied, tied up wrist and l-lunged for it, missing by a f-few inches. M-Michael knew w-what I intended t-to d-do and he d-didn't make it easy on m-me. He u-used Avada Kedavra, but m-missed. I-I had my wand out b-by then... A-and I k-killed him..."
Ginny had never revealed the exact story of what had happened to anyone. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her vision obscured. "Afterwards I met Harry and he and I fled from London. W-we went t-to New Y-York City... Where y-you f-found us..."
Her voice trailed off. There wasn't much more to say.
"In favor of Ginny Weasley using the spell in self-defense, raise your hand," the flustered, elderly woman called out. Ginny shut her eyes. Now was it. She was going to Azkaban... She just knew it...
forbiddenlight