Hey everybody! Here you go, chapter 4! I hope you like it. It's still in a flashback, just so nobody's confused. THIS CHAPTER WAS NOT DESCRIBED BY THE FOUR, remember that!
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything.
The train jolted and slowed, and Harry stood up. "Here," he said shortly, lifting Ginny's trunk off of the luggage rack and setting it down in front of her.
"Thank you," Ginny said quietly, bracing herself against the compartment door as the train rattled to a stop. When it finally did, she slid open the door and silently exited. Harry kept his back to her the whole time, while silently cursing himself for not saying anything more.
Throughout the whole trip back to the Burrow, even through Mrs Weasley's teary greeting, Harry's mind had wandered back to this moment. There had been a catch in her voice when she had spoken. Was it because she was worried about him? He somehow knew that, one day, he would have to tell her how he felt. Was it the right time? He knew that the window of time that he still had with her was shrinking fast. It was then that he decided to talk to her, and explain everything. He had not forgotten the day, only a few before the end of school, when he had been forced to tell her about his decision…
There she was, sitting by the fire, her glossy red hair spilling over the edge of the couch. Her hazel eyes reflected the dancing flames. She sat alone, looking so vulnerable. Harry cleared his throat and walked slowly over to her, words and phrases running round his brain. None of them sounded right.
"Ginny?" Harry asked quietly. At the sound of her name she looked up and smiled at him. He took a seat cautiously next to her, keeping a distance between them. She looked at him quizzically. He did not return her gaze when he spoke next, but kept his eyes on the fire.
"I-I need to tell you something," Harry began. He could feel her eyes boring into him, questioning, wondering.
"What sort of something?" She shifted and coughed.
"Well, it's…sort of hard to say…I want you to hear me out, and not interrupt." Harry finally met her gaze, and instantly regretted it. He did not want to get lost in her deep, innocent, beautiful eyes again.
"I'm listening," she said quietly. You could have heard a pin drop.
"Well, I…remember, two years ago, in the Department of Mysteries?"
"Ye-ah…something about a prophecy…"
"Well, that prophecy was about me. It said that…I'm destined to meet Voldemort in one final battle…and only one of us will survive. It's him or me."
Ginny gasped, and Harry could see her eyes fill with tears. "Oh, Harry…"
"And…after I finish Hogwarts, I'm going to meet him. I'm going to destroy his Horcruxes and I'm going to fight him."
Ginny made no attempt to stop tears leaking from her eyes. She remained silent, however.
Harry took a deep breath and continued. "Ron and Hermione have insisted on coming with me. But I'm not going to let them get hurt. This is my battle…my choice."
Ginny shook her head disbelievingly. "Harry…why? Why do you have to?"
"It's my destiny," Harry responded shortly.
"But…why?" Ginny's voice broke, and her body shook with a heavy sob.
"Ginny…" Harry began, then broke off as he watched her sob into her hands. He didn't know what else to do, besides put a comforting arm around her. She looked up as he did this, eyes pleading. Suddenly, her expression changed from that of an innocent girl to a determined young woman.
"I'm coming with you," she said firmly, wiping her tears. Harry drew back, though he was not surprised.
"No you're not, Gin," Harry said quietly.
"And why not?" Ginny asked in a deadly whisper. "Why can't I come? I want to fight, too! I don't want to die an innocent, helpless—"
"I can't let anything happen to you—" Harry felt a lump in his throat.
"I'm not a little girl anymore, Potter," Ginny spat viciously. Harry tried to ignore her deliberate, harsh way of addressing him, but could not quite manage it.
"I know you're not, Ginny, but I don't want you to get hurt—"
"You think I don't feel the same way?" Ginny's voice grew louder, and she stood up. "You think I'm going to let you waltz off and leave me behind?"
"This isn't easy for me, Ginny!" Harry yelled, standing up as well. "If you got hurt—"
"Oh, I can understand now!" Ginny shrieked. "You're not my brother! I don't care if you feel all protective—"
"It's not like that!" Harry cried, and instantly regretted it. Ginny flared up again.
"Well, what is it then?"
Harry stopped, mouth half open. Tell her how you feel, said the little voice inside his head.
She'll freak again, he thought desperately.
"You're my best mate's sister!" Harry yelled, scrambling.
Ginny seemed to visibly deflate. "Oh."
"I-I can't let you go! Ron wouldn't like it, either—"
Ginny's eyes were burning. "All right then! You go off, leave me behind, the little sister, the tag-along! I don't care!" She turned on her heel and stalked off, leaving Harry to collapse in an armchair and bury his head in his hands, completely unaware of the small, sleepy-looking crowd of Gryffindors that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.
Since then he and Ginny had stopped being mad at each other, but still avoided each other. Ron and Hermione, who had heard their argument clearly, seemed nervous around the two. Harry regretted yelling at her, but it had been hard to control himself—she hadn't taken it well.
When they arrived at the Burrow, Harry unloaded his things from the trunk and made his way up to Ron's bedroom alone. When he had dumped everything on the floor, he lay down on the cot set up for him and stared at the ceiling.
He was pulled out of thought five minutes later, when Ron tentatively entered the room. He sat down on his bright orange Chudley Cannons bedspread and eyed his friend.
"Erm…how're you doing?" Ron asked carefully.
Harry rolled over, ready with a sarcastic remark, but upon seeing the look on his best friend's face, his shoulders sagged and he sighed.
"Sorry. For—everything."
"S'okay." Ron smiled, then faltered. "But really, how are you doing?"
Harry heaved another sigh. "Not good."
"Look, mate." Ron shifted. "I'm scared, too. But if this is what you want to do—"
"It's not just that." Harry sat up.
Ron stared at him. "What is it, then?" When Harry hesitated, Ron sighed. "You can tell me."
"Well, I don't think you'll like it…"
"You can still tell me."
"Okay…well, promise not to rip my head off, or anything?"
Ron smiled. "Promise."
"Um, okay…well, I'm really worried…see, there's a girl, and…she's really close to both of us…and I think…well, okay, I think I'm in love with her…"
The smile faded from Ron's face and was replaced with a menacing look. "It's Hermione, isn't it?" he growled. "You know, that promise wasn't entirely fair…"
Harry looked at his friend and laughed. Ron stared at Harry. "What's so funny?"
"You—actually thought—"
"What, it's not Hermione?" Ron relaxed, though he still looked confused.
"Of course not! Hermione's practically my sister..."
"Oh." Ron looked happy. "Good."
Harry, glad to have an opportunity to change subjects, said, "Why are you so curious?"
"No reason." Ron looked uncomfortable; he was turning an interesting shade of red. "That's off topic."
Harry chuckled.
"But anyways, if it's not Hermione…blimey, mate, I never knew you liked her…"
Harry, assuming that Ron had guessed correctly, said, "So you don't have much of a problem with it?"
"Well, Luna has always had a soft spot for you…"
Harry clapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "It's not Luna, prat!"
"Who, then?"
Harry sighed. "Please don't tell your brothers…they'll rip me to shreds if they knew…"
"Why would they—" Ron's face dawned with understanding. "It's Ginny…" he breathed.
Harry nodded slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable blow. It never came.
"Blimey…" was all Ron could manage. "You…Ginny…bloody hell."
"Don't kill me," Harry said quietly, getting up from his cot and moving to the door.
"I won't…you know, she's never given up on you."
Harry smiled, relieved. "Thanks, mate."
Ginny trudged up the stairs towards her room, keeping her eyes on the ground. She'd had to rid her mind, repetitively, of a certain black-haired, green-eyed boy, who was, incidentally, her brother's best friend, and the cause of all her headaches. She couldn't place how she felt towards him—if he was just a friend, why did she melt whenever he smiled at her? Why did she feel those pleasant tingles whenever he touched her? Why, above all, was she so emotional over his decision to leave and go on this "quest"? She had been so hopeful that night, when they had been yelling after he'd told her about it. He had, obviously accidentally, let slip the fact that there was another reason why he did not want her to come with him, besides him feeling like an older brother to her. She knew that he had no feelings for her apart from those of an overprotective brother. So why…
She reached her door, and entered to find Hermione sitting on her bed, immersed in (guess what?) a book. When Ginny slammed the door behind her, Hermione flinched and looked up.
"Something bothering you?" she asked mildly. Ginny was ready to vent all her anger and frustration, but instead allowed her face to crumple. Hermione set down her book, stood up and quickly gathered Ginny in a hug. Ginny sniffled; a few tears made their way down her cheek.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked soothingly. She kept an arm around the emotional redhead as she led her to her bed and sat her down. Then she sat next to her.
Ginny looked at her friend, and suddenly found herself pouring out everything: her confusion over Harry, the way he'd looked at her when he told her he had to go…everything. Hermione merely listened and nodded sympathetically. When Ginny finished, she took a deep, shuddering breath to control herself.
"It's okay, Ginny…" Hermione said. "Harry has been under a lot of pressure lately."
"Me, too," Ginny said, trying to calm herself. "If only he—" She was cut off; Hermione was staring at a photograph on Ginny's dresser. It was of Ginny and Ron, taken in the summer before Ron's third year. They were standing in a desert, a large pyramid in the background, waving enthusiastically.
"Um, Hermione?" Ginny waved a hand in front of her friend's face; she was snapped out of her trance.
"Oh! Sorry…"
"It's okay." Ginny smiled. "I know."
Before Hermione could respond to this, there was a small knock on the door. "Come in," Ginny called, without thinking to ask who it was. The door creaked open and Harry's head appeared, looking cautious. Ginny jumped up, startled. She had almost forgotten he was here.
"Um…dinner's ready…" Harry said quietly. He then quickly withdrew his head and shut the door before either Ginny or Hermione could respond.
Okay, there you have it, another chapter. Hope you liked it.