Hey all you fanfiction-ers! I've been really bad about updating this story. It's been, what, over a month? Well, I finally got around to it, and I'm apologize; this chappie is a little on the short side. Stuff is found out, though... Lots of dialogue between Ginny and Ron, which has been lacking.
Enjoy! And pleeeeeeeease REVIEW!
October 27 – 8:30pm – Library.
Apparently big things happened during the breakfast I skipped on Saturday.
It was cold this afternoon when I showed up at the pitch for Quidditch training. The sky was a sickly grey, the trees drooped, the grass didn't look as green. Depressing. The weather generally mirrored how I was feeling. I'd developed a cough and a clogged conk overnight and was in no mood for Quidditch. But, when your brother is House captain, you're strongly obligated to make an appearance. Now I wish I hadn't. Regardless, I wouldn't have been able to avoid what was coming.
Harry was nowhere in sight. Ron approached me, handed me a Snitch, and started walking away before I called him back.
"Ron! What in blazes are you giving me this for?" I asked, confused.
He turned, giving me a quizzical look.
"Ohhh!" he exclaimed. "No one's told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Harry's been suspended from the team for a month."
My jaw dropped. Thunderstruck, I gaped at my brother, hoping I'd misheard him.
"What!?" I blurted, dropping my broomstick. It landed with a dull thud. I tried to move to retrieve it, but my body was rigid with shock.
"So, you'll have to be our Seeker for a while."
"W-what? Why did he—what... did? He was what??" I sputtered.
"Sus-pen-ded," Ron repeated, annunciating each syllable with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
"Why!?"
"He landed Malfoy in the hospital wing with a broken nose. I saw the whole thing. It was bloody brilliant, if you ask me," said Ron, laughing. Then his face became stern. His shoulders rose into a shrug as he regarded my fallen broom with vague interest. "Had to get himself booted from the team, though."
He started to turn again. I snatched the sleeve of his robe.
"What happened?" I asked, pulling him back around.
Ron shook himself from my grasp and gave me an irritated brotherly glare before answering.
"On Saturday, during breakfast, Harry went over to the Slytherin table. He looked mighty pissed off too. And no, I don't know why."
He paused, for suspense I suppose.
"Draco stood up, and they started arguing. No one could hear what they were saying, though. They were like, whispering. Their faces were really close together."
Another dramatic pause.
"Get on with it!" I urged, exasperated.
"Well, one minute they were just in each others faces like that, the next Draco was on the floor and about fifty Slytherin girls were screaming like the morons they are. Gave me a bloody headache, they did."
I waited.
"So, that's it? Harry hit Malfoy? And you don't know why?" I inquired.
"Nah, don't know why. Harry hasn't told anyone."
Ron stopped again, but this time it appeared as if he was trying to remember something. His eyes flicked to my bruise (which is fading, but still visible).
"After Draco went down, Harry hollered at him, 'How do you like it?'. Which I don't quite understand."
At this point, I reached a whole new level of astonishment. I stood my ground, gawking idiotically in disbelief. Ron squinted at me with suspicion, but said nothing more.
New emotions piled on top of feeling stupid for ever trusting Draco and hurt in more ways than one. First and foremost, guilt. Harry got suspended because of me. If I had only kept my big mouth shut about what happened, he wouldn't have hit Draco and gotten into such trouble.
But next... I felt sort of flattered. The fact that Harry would "defend my honor", per se, is... well, flattering. And saying "How do you like it?" ... not a bad line to go out on.
Agh. No, I shouldn't condone this act of violence.
But still.
Anyway. Lastly, I was consumed with utter and complete terror. I hadn't trained to be Seeker in over a year.
The Snitch was flailing against my clutches. I gripped it tighter. That familiar queasy sensation returned as I realized the next match, in less than two weeks time, was versus Slytherin. I would have to face Draco, compete with Draco, be shoved around by Draco. His name thumped against my skull like the steady rhythm of a drum; Draco, Draco, Draco...
There's no way I could do it.
"I-I can't! I can't be Seeker!" I shouted suddenly to Ron, who had slipped away to the pitch and was standing with the rest of the team. Several faces, including those of Ron, Seamus, Andy, and Jack swiveled toward me. My breath shallow, I cast Ron a pleading look.
He hesitated, then told the team, "Go start warming up. Equipment's by the hoops." Grumbling, they obeyed. Ron jogged over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Why, Gin?"
I shook my head and let my gaze fall to the grass, fighting back tears.
"I can't."
"Only two matches this month, Gin. Then Harry's punishment will be over, and you'll go back to being a Ch—"
"But... Slytherin, in two weeks..."
I drew in a quivering breath as I lifted my eyes to meet Ron's.
"The other night, Draco... well, Draco and I aren't together anymore," I explained.
"It's about time!" Ron scoffed, but immediately looked apologetic. "Sorry. I mean, he's just a big... well, I don't think he was right for you, is all."
"He wasn't," I concurred, threading shaky fingers through my hair. "I just don't... want to be Seeker against Slytherin. Against Draco. I don't feel ready to... to..."
"Gin, think about this. It's your chance to show him up. Whatever he did to fuck over your relationship I'm sure deserves more than just that punch. Beat the bloody prat at what he thinks he's good at!" Ron thrust a fist into the air. "Don't be afraid of him. Be self-righteous, dammit, and catch that Snitch before he does!"
Ron scrambled to pick up my broomstick. He shoved it into my arms so passionately that I almost dropped it again. His arms crossed, he let out a quick puff of air, appearing satisfied with his speech. "'Scuse my French," he added, slightly pink in the cheeks.
Nodding, I put on a very fake, appreciative smile. He deserved the assurance, but inside I knew that his efforts were futile.
"Two matches, Gin. That's all I ask."
Easier said than done.
Draco, Draco, Draco...
I'm scared.
I saw him on my way to supper today. I just saw him. He didn't even look at me; he had his arm around Pugfaced Pansy, his little groupie. That was all it took for me to break down crying. I retreated to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and she didn't make it much better. I told her to leave me alone and she did a nose-dive into the toilet, shrieking with laughter.
I hate him. I don't want to see him. But he's everywhere. He's everywhere and he's moved past everything, like it never happened, like I never happened. All I am is another girl in his history – a girl that told him no, which he obviously can't take for an answer. So he blew me off, with a swing of his arm and a few nasty words.
If I can't even pass him in the hall without freaking out, how am I supposed to play against him in the match? He'll probably rub against me if we're side-by-side, chasing the Snitch... ugh. I feel dirty just thinking about it.
I hate myself for thinking he was different than everyone says. But he's not, and he never will be. Godric... stupid. I'm bloody stupid. I'm... nothing.
Actually, I'm not quite nothing. I'm scared. That's what I am. I'm a bundle of fear, awaiting a Quidditch match that I'm not ready to play. I'm a little girl, sitting on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, alone, terrified. I'm a first year all over again, being controlled by somebody else. A person that I thought cared about me, but had ulterior motives. It's déjà vu. Except... one major difference. Draco is real. I wasn't in a trance during the times we kissed. I haven't been half-hypnotized for two months. I've been perfectly conscious.
It's just been me. Making stupid decisions and being naïve. Harry was right. He tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen. Essentially, what happened is my fault. I feel like such a sodding idiot. A worthless, sodding idiot.
And I don't remember ever being so scared.
--Ginny.