Author's Note:
Aaaand I think round 3 is my favorite round of QLFC yet! Eeee Hamilton! :D Each prompt was inspired by a song from the musical, and mine (as Keeper) is "Satisfied": write about unrequited feelings (romantic or platonic). Nothing like some good old pre-HBP Hinny angst. Plus, I've had OotP on the brain, recently…
In addition to the song-inspired plot prompt, I had to incorporate a lyric from the song into the fic. I decided to go with: I remember that night / I just might regret that night / For the rest of my days.
To my judge, the word count (minus the A/N) is 1,685.
Go Kestrels,
Ari
20 December 1995
"We wanted to talk to you, Harry. But as you've been hiding ever since we got back—"
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me."
Ginny lay on her back in her rickety camp bed, staring up at the ceiling. Dimly, she could hear Fred and George in their bedroom two floors up, blasting the Weird Sisters on their wireless. The noise seemed to be irritating Buckbeak—every few seconds, the hippogriff let out an audible squawk, followed by a thundering of hooves. Ginny reckoned the twins had about ten minutes before Mum came storming up the stairs.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Ginny rolled onto her side, facing away from the bedroom door. Jaw clenched, she tried to squeeze her eyes shut against the stupid conversation playing in her head. It had taken root in her brain earlier that evening and refused to leave, filling her stomach with the dull, hollow ache that she had long come to associate with Harry—ever since the very first time she'd seen his face at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me."
"Well, that was a bit stupid of you, seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."
Just then, Ginny heard footsteps outside the bedroom door, and she stiffened. With a soft creak, the door was pushed open, but Ginny kept her eyes firmly shut as the unwelcome visitor peered into the room.
There were a few beats of silence. Then—
"Nice try, Ginny, but I've been pretending to sleep to get out of things since I was three."
Ginny's eyes flew open at the unexpected voice. "Tonks?" she asked in surprise, sitting up in her bed and looking around.
Tonks was leaning in the doorway, grinning; her hair was turquoise blue and curly today, bouncing about her face.
"Wotcher, you," she said cheerfully, shutting the bedroom door behind her and coming over to Ginny's bed. "Why aren't you downstairs putting Father Christmas hats on a bunch of shriveled-up old elf heads with the others?"
Ginny pursed her lips, looking away from Tonks. "I'm not really in a festive mood."
"Hmm," Tonks said thoughtfully. "Well, that's funny because Harry just told us you'd given him a good lecture about shutting himself up in his room."
Despite herself, Ginny felt the familiar, unfair heat creeping up her ears and neck at hearing that Harry had mentioned her. Clenching her jaw tighter than ever, Ginny kept her gaze fixed on the wall next to her bed. Tonks sat down at the edge of the mattress, and Ginny felt her eyes boring into her.
"What's up, Ginny?" Tonks asked curiously. "It's not like you to hide."
"I'm not hiding," Ginny said in a stiff voice, still glaring at the wall. "I'm—thinking."
Tonks raised her eyebrows. "What about?"
Ginny turned her gaze down to her knees, swallowing. For a long moment, she was silent, considering.
Then, glancing up at Tonks, she asked quietly, "D'you…did Bill ever tell you…about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Tonks's expression softened.
"Dumbledore did," she said gently. When Ginny's eyes widened in horror, Tonks hastily continued, "Nothing about what happened to you! He just—he wanted the Order to know how You-Know-Who's attempted to seize control in the past." She paused for a moment, before adding, "The only reason I guessed who was writing in that diary is because I was watching your parents' reactions."
Ginny's chest constricted, and she looked down at her lap again.
"What's got you thinking about that?" Tonks asked, after a moment.
Ginny tightened her mouth. "Harry," she said in a low voice. "He—well, we overheard you lot at St. Mungo's yesterday, talking about him. We heard Moody say…that he thinks You-Know-Who's possessing Harry."
Tonks let out a low groan, covering her eyes with her hand. "I knew something was up when I saw the twins' faces," she said wearily. Shaking her head, she faced Ginny, trying for a stern expression—but it was ruined by the twitch at her lips. "I should tell Molly, you know."
"You won't," Ginny said dismissively. "Besides, Harry knows he isn't being possessed now. I told him what it feels like—he realized it's not possible."
Tonks frowned. "Well, then, what's got you so wound up?"
The hollow pain in Ginny's stomach seemed to sharpen suddenly. Looking up, she met Tonks's concerned, sympathetic gaze—and then, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"He forgot," Ginny said in a brittle voice.
Tonks's brows furrowed deeper. "Sorry?"
Ginny pressed her lips together. "Harry…he forgot that I'd been possessed."
Tonks blinked, looking stunned. "He said that?"
Ginny nodded, and the pain in her stomach grew sharper still. "I told him it was stupid of him to hide in his room rather than talk to any of us, since I'm the only person he knows that could actually tell him if he was being possessed by You-Know-Who," she explained, taking great care to say each word as steadily as she could. "And then…he said, 'I forgot.'"
Tonks fell silent. Drawing her legs closer to herself on the bed, Ginny focused her gaze on a few flecks of lint on her dowdy blue comforter. It was several long moments before Tonks spoke again.
"Is it possible," she began, very slowly, "that Harry didn't…really forget? That he's been so wrapped up in his own head that he just stopped thinking clearly for a moment?"
The sharp ache in Ginny's stomach seemed to move up to lodge itself in her throat. Gritting her teeth against the stinging in her eyes, she bit out, "Of course he didn't really forget. I know that—I know that, better than anyone, and it's exactly why I'll never, ever say any of this to him. I know how much he's got to cope with right now—it's impossible not to see it, every time I look at him."
Tonks sighed, looking closely at Ginny for a moment. Then, she reached out and rested a gentle hand on Ginny's knee. "Doesn't change the fact that it hurt, does it?" she said softly.
Ginny reached up a hand and ran her fingers through her long, red hair, letting it fall over her face as the familiar images began flickering through her brain, burned as they were into her memory: Harry, pink-faced and stammering, asking her mother how to get onto the platform. Harry, surrounded by Dementors, falling fifty feet from the air, as the wind and rain swirled around her. Harry, bleeding openly and covered in bruises, as he landed on the lawn in front of the maze, clutching Cedric's body to his chest.
And finally, Harry, coated in grime and dried blood, leaning over her in the Chamber of Secrets with wide, concerned eyes, as she blinked around in terror, overcome by the reality of everything she had done and caused that year…
Swallowing, Ginny suddenly looked up and caught Tonks's eye, her expression hard.
"I didn't forget," Ginny said fiercely. "I lost practically that whole year of my life, and I jumped at my own reflection the entire summer after. But I remember that night, and I just might regret that night—that whole year—for the rest of my bloody days. I remember every single thing that's ever happened to him, and he—he—he—"
She broke off, unable to continue, and seized her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. She wanted to scream, and curse, and bury her head in her pillow and cry as she had never, ever cried before. Because in all her years of knowing just how deeply she cared for Harry Potter, nothing had ever made her feel as insignificant to him as those two words had.
"I forgot."
Tonks didn't respond right away. Maybe she was just as surprised and discomfited as Ginny was at the emotions that were tearing through her, making her feel weak and stupid. Whatever the reason, Tonks simply sat there with her comforting hand on Ginny's knee until Ginny was able to tamp down all her frustration and hurt and look her in the eye again. And when she did, Ginny was rather startled to see Tonks watching her with an intense mixture of admiration and pride.
"You," Tonks said in a low voice, "are one hell of a witch, Ginny Weasley. And one of these days, Harry is going to see you for everything you are—and he's going to feel like the world's biggest prat for not figuring it out sooner."
An incredulous noise escaped Ginny's lips before she could stop it. "Yeah?" she asked Tonks disbelievingly. "And how long does that take, usually?"
"Oh, Ginny, if you find out, let me know," Tonks sighed, looking at the bedroom door over Ginny's head for a moment. "I don't reckon there's a set timeline for how long it takes a boy to pull his head out of his arse."
Ginny let out a snort of laughter, rolling her eyes at Tonks—but once she'd started laughing, it was hard to stop. Minutes later, she and Tonks were both laughing so hard that they didn't even notice that the bedroom door had opened again, until Tonks glanced over Ginny's head and nearly toppled backwards off the bed with a shout of surprise.
"Er—sorry—I didn't mean to interrupt," Harry said awkwardly, turning from Ginny to Tonks in bemusement. He looked at Ginny. "We're starting a round of Exploding Snap in our room, if you'd like to join."
Ginny carefully ignored the broad grin on Tonks's face as she gave Harry a nod. "I'll be right up."
"Cool," Harry said with a smile. "See you in a bit."
Once Harry had disappeared from the doorway, Ginny turned and glared at Tonks.
"What?" Tonks asked, raising her hands. "I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to—your face said it for you," Ginny grumbled, hopping off her bed and straightening her hair in the mirror.
"Send me an owl, will you? Once he comes to his senses, I mean. So I know to give him a good smack about the head the next time I see him."
Ginny threw a sock at Tonks, but laughed as she ducked out of the bedroom, heading toward the main staircase.
The dull weight in her stomach seemed to have dissipated slightly.