Ginny felt sick. It was now after midnight and she hadn't had anything to eat since the train ride home, but her body simply couldn't find any enthusiasm for food; the thought of it made her stomach turn. She knew from experience however that she would get no respite from the unwell feeling until she had forced something down, and so she began nibbling on some biscuits. Despite the fact that her mother had made them and she was certain they must taste quite good, all her mouth registered was the taste and texture of cardboard as she chewed. They settled uncomfortably in her stomach in a lump that was hardly preferable to the pain before she had eaten. One was all she managed before she truly thought she might vomit. Instead, she dully used her wand to reheat the tea in her cup, hating the reason she was able to do so, and staring at the still full cup sitting on the opposite side of the table in front of an empty chair that would not be filled.
She sighed and had to force back a sob at the thought.
Ginny had first come down to the kitchen twenty minutes ago after sleeping for only an hour before being woken by a nightmare. She hadn't been surprised; nightmares were a common enough occurrence for her, especially here in Grimmauld Place. Perhaps it's all the snakes, she thought discomfited. After all, they were almost always about the Chamber and Tom Riddle when she was here. Regardless of the reason, she proceeded to do what she had always done when this happened and headed for the kitchen to make some tea. The clock struck midnight as she finished preparing two cups of tea on autopilot and sat down without a thought to wait for her late-night companion to arrive. Even though she sometimes arrived first, experience had shown that he eventually would join her. She didn't know if he could hear the ringing of that horrid clock from the drawing room ringing in his room as well, but it never failed that midnight saw Sirius heading to the kitchen for some late-night comfort.
It was one minute and forty-three seconds after midnight and three sips of tea before Ginny had finally woken up enough to remember that Sirius wouldn't be joining her. He would never again sit at the table with her, keeping his demons at bay long enough to resist the alcohol so that he could stay sober and be her friend. He used to sit and sip tea (that she knew he wasn't interested in, but that she was grateful he partook in) and they would talk until she had reached a level of calm that would allow her to fall back asleep. Those late-night talks were gone now. Sirius was gone now. And she didn't know how to handle it.
She quickly exited the kitchen and fled once again to the sanctuary that was his room. The room she shared with Hermione wasn't her least favorite room in the house - that particular honor went to the drawing room - but she had never liked it. She supposed that now she could claim Sirius's room for own - it was her house, after all, and she was for all intents and purposes an adult - but she liked thinking of it as his.
The room was just as she had left it earlier after her conversation with Ron. Their talk had been more candid than any other they had had in years. In varying degrees of detail, they had talked about everything to do with this damned betrothal- the betrayal, the guilt, the feeling of loss for her and indignation for Harry. He was the one who explained the notes they found in the Black family journal and how the annotations indicated that the betrothal had been done more for her sake than Harry's. That knowledge certainly hadn't helped with the guilt. It was probably what had led to the change in her nightmare tonight.
It had started the same as it always did when she was here: in the Chamber facing Tom Riddle. She had woken up to find herself on the floor of the Chamber, barely strong enough to keep her eyes open, pain radiating in every fiber of her being, as Tom began to materialize in front of her. He had been shadowy, like a mirage, as he informed her of what he had done to her, what she had done under his direction, and what he intended to do to Harry once his resurrection had been completed and she had become the memory instead of him.
In reality, she had lost consciousness at that point as his silhouette came into sharper relief and didn't wake again until Harry had already destroyed the diary and Tom was gone, but the nightmare always continued from Tom's point of view. When she first started having it, she refused to believe it had been anything other than just her mind trying to fill in the gaps. As more of these nightmares came, however, she realized they were memories Tom had made when using her essence that she had gained when her magic had been returned to her upon the destruction of the diary.
At first, the dream continued as usual, with Harry arriving and rushing to her side while Tom watched from the shadows. She always felt terribly guilty seeing his distress, but she could remember that Tom had found it ironic. How could he be so visibly concerned as she was dying, yet not have any time for her when she was alive? Dying changed things, he knew - the insignificant suddenly become precious while the great and powerful suddenly become weak - which is why he never intended to die; he had never been insignificant and he would never allow himself to be so weak. Ginny knew enough about him to know that there would have been no limit to the unspeakable things he would be willing to do in his quest for immortality, and she fervently hoped he had not been successful.
Harry was still begging Ginny to wake and shaking her now. She knew this was the moment that Tom would step forward and say, "She won't wake." Except, that's not what happened. Instead, she watched as her eleven-year-old self shoot up and shot "Incarcerous" at Harry, binding him. She felt Tom smile before her perspective changed.
Now she was looking at Tom again, but he was no longer Tom Riddle. Voldemort as he was now, red-eyed and snakelike, stood where Tom had been. When she looked at Harry bound in front of her, it was his fifteen-year-old self she saw and she could already tell that she was in her fourteen-year-old body as well from the size of her hands.
She didn't understand. This had never happened and she would never allow it to happen. Voldemort responded to her thoughts, "You never would have thought you'd open the Chamber of Secrets, yet you did. You almost killed Harry once before and now you'll help me do it again."
She wanted to deny it, to scream that she would never allow it to happen, but Harry was looking at her with hatred and betrayal, and the words died in her throat. His tone was cold when he said, "It's all your fault, you know. If you had never written in that diary, if you had just listened to the warnings your father had given you all your life, this never would have happened."
She had to do something, she thought wildly, but she felt as if she'd been petrified and Voldemort smiled at her. "Thank you, Ginevra, for your help. It was exactly what I needed." Her voice finally came back in the form of a scream when his red eyes glowed brighter and he sent a green light directly at the still bound and defenseless Harry with a simple, "Avada Kedavra".
Even though she felt better now than after she had first woken, the sick panic she had felt watching the killing curse strike Harry in the chest lingered, and she knew sleep would be impossible. Forgoing the bed, she headed back toward the desk using her wand to light a single candle. She hadn't finished going through the box of things Sirius had left behind earlier - she had been distracted by the letters and will first and then later by Ron, who had guilted her into heading downstairs to talk to Hermione after their chat - and she didn't want to risk the light tipping anyone off that she was there. Now that she was alone and not likely to be interrupted, she sat and intended to take a good look through the magically expanded box.
It should have been easy. The box was sitting there, already unlocked and open, and would provide her with something to think about other than her nightmare or the mess that was her life now. All she had to do was lean forward and begin, but she didn't want to. These were the most important bits of Sirius's life and the last pieces that would shape her memory of him. It felt like hammering the final nail into his coffin and she hesitated, her gut churning.
She broke out of her gloominess when her back started to hurt. For a moment, she wondered how long she could have been sitting there and if her emotional upheaval had her losing time, but then she remembered what Sirius had told her when she asked why he did all his writing in the study instead of his room. He claimed his mother must have cursed his desk chair because it always hurt like hell when he did work there. She had never believed him and privately thought he was just getting old, but it appeared she had been wrong. Swallowing down her apprehension, she picked up the magical box and made her way to the bed.
The first thing she found was a stack of all the letters she had written to him. Considering they had only taken to writing to each other this year, it was a decent size, but it was still smaller than she would have liked, thanks to Umbridge monitoring their mail. Next was a stack of letters from Harry if the handwriting on the outside was anything to go by. She didn't open any to check though, not wanting to violate their privacy.
When she placed his stack beside her own, she was surprised and saddened to see that it was slightly smaller than hers, indicating they clearly hadn't written all that much given his correspondence with Sirius spanned a year longer than hers had. She couldn't quite understand why that would be when it was clear they loved each other very much. Then again, Harry was never particularly verbose even in the flesh, let alone much of a writer. Boys, she thought in exasperation.
Moving on, she found a box that was a tight enough fit that she could only use her fingertips when pulling it out. It had her name on it. The trepidation she had felt earlier came roaring back to life. He'd left her actual things. When she had first found the note earlier after learning of the betrothal, she had already been in a state of shock and she had ripped into the letter without thought, desperate to understand why he had done this to her. Now though, her body flooded with nerves. She peeked back into his box of things, wondering if she could keep exploring and procrastinate going through whatever was in the box with her name on it, but saw the next item was another box like the one Sirius had left her, except it was for Harry. Knowing she certainly couldn't go through his box, she turned back to her own. With shaking hands, she opened it.
Her eyes promptly filled with tears as she reached out and stroked the fabric before her in disbelief.
The first thing inside, cleaned and folded neatly, was the cloak she had given him her second year. How had he managed to keep it while on the run? She almost didn't believe it, but she could see where the worn fabric had been patched in places and recognized her mother's stitching, as well as the pattern, immediately. Touched, she gently removed it before carrying on.
Directly beneath the cloak was a surprise. It was an awkwardly shaped, medium size wrapped package. When she reached out and took it, whatever was inside gave and the paper crinkled, indicating it was soft. There was a note written on the paper itself saying, "In case you ever need someone to talk to at night." She smiled wistfully, tearing up again when she saw pulled back the paper to reveal a stuffed animal in the form of a shaggy, black dog. There was even a dog-tag engraved with the name "Snuffles". She laughed at her own weepiness and muttered without heat, "Damn it, Sirius. Only you could make me cry this much."
She set both her box and the larger one that belonged to Sirius aside and cuddled with her new friend Snuffles, leaning back into the pillows and pulling the knitted blanket at the foot of the bed over herself. It wasn't anywhere near as soothing or warm as snuggling with Snuffles on the bank of the Black Lake had been nor as comforting as talking to Sirius had been, but she felt better than she had before as she ran her fingers through the fur. She wondered if he had had it custom made because the length of the fur was disproportionate to the size of the animal, because it was designed perfectly for Ginny to perform the familiar action with. Without realizing it, she started to drift.
The click of the door and a quick flash of light woke her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep at all and the sense of disorientation only added to the shock. Instinctively, she grabbed her wand and launched upright, aiming it at the door. It was dark in the room with the door shut - the lone candle she lit earlier must have burned out - but she knew she had seen a flash of light before then. Her eyes searched the darkness, finding no shapes that didn't belong, but she felt a presence. Certain there was someone there she said with quiet control, "You have five seconds before I start flinging hexes at random. Show yourself."
A figure appeared. She didn't need to see clearly to know who it was. Honestly, she really shouldn't have been surprised when Harry appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She relaxed her wand and placed a hand to her chest over her rapidly beating heart.
"Merlin, Harry. You scared the shit out of me."
There was a brief pause before he lit his wand and she could see his face. He looked as tired as she had earlier. "Sorry," he said, awkwardly shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at her. "I didn't realize you'd be here." He shrugged and lifted the hand not holding the wand as if to ruffle his hair, but the silver fabric of his father's invisibility cloak dragged awkwardly across his body as he did so; he paused and draped it over his shoulder and continued his original plan to run his now free hand through his hair. Ginny knew it was a nervous habit of his, and it seemed to be something that he had been doing frequently tonight if its current mussed state was any indication.
"No, it's okay," she said with a wave of her hand, feeling bad that he was clearly so uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to, but I must have fallen asleep. You just startled me is all."
"Right."
She eyed him for a moment, unsure of what to say. It was clearly very late - early? - and she was certain neither of them was in any state to have a serious talk. We're not in the habit of having serious conversations in general, let alone talking about us. She looked down and traced the patterns on the comforter.
This is getting us nowhere, she thought to herself after entirely too much silence. It truly hadn't been that long at all, but now that the adrenaline from waking up the way she had was fading, she was finding herself leaning toward exhaustion again. Might as well get this over with.
"What brings you here this time of night, Harry?"
He shot her a glance, but quickly looked away, before mumbling, "Couldn't sleep." After a moment, he cleared his throat and said more clearly, "What about you? You said you didn't mean to fall asleep here."
"Couldn't sleep," she said, neglecting to mention the nightmare that had made sure of it and continued to cover up the truth further by sending him a tired, but cheeky grin.
He cracked a smile for her, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Sighing, she decided to offer him some honesty. Really, if anyone deserved it from her at this point, it was him. "I couldn't sleep again. I've never really been able to sleep here. Last summer I thought it was because Tom had just returned. But the nightmares keep coming, so…" She trailed off and shrugged. She hadn't meant to be so transparent with him. She continued to cover up her nerves, "Maybe it's the snake motif. I don't know." Stop being a coward, she scolded herself. I thought you were trying to be honest with him. "So, I went down to the kitchen, as usual, made tea and sat down to wait. The tea had gone cold by the time I realized I was waiting for Sirius… I just missed him, I guess. I thought I'd feel closer to him in here. Safer maybe." She let out a laugh, "I never really imagined that pictures of scantily clad muggle girls could be calming, but here I am." She laughed again. She would forever blame spending so many years in the company of Fred and George for her next comment. A sly grin crossed her face and she said unthinkingly, "Though I imagine they're not quite so calming for you."
She was gratified when she saw his posture relax and some of the tension release from his shoulders. He even rolled his eyes at her before his lips quirked into a lopsided grin that was much more genuine. "Ha-ha, Gin. You're hilarious."
She narrowed her eyes at him at that. "Since when do you call me 'Gin'?"
"Oh." He looked down again nervously, cheeks visibly bright even in the dim light of his wand.
Damnit. He's retreating again. She quickly cut in, "Sorry. That didn't sound right. I was just surprised is all."
He smiled in relief then and sheepishly admitted, "I didn't realize I had done it, actually. In the note he left me," his hand went to his pocket as he said it and she heard the parchment that must have been his letter crinkle a bit, "Sirius kept calling you 'Gin'. I've - uh - well, I've read and reread it a lot tonight, so it's kind of fresh in my head."
She nodded thoughtfully. She had only read her letter once, but she could understand the desire to soak up those words. She might have pulled hers back out if she hadn't found the box-
"Oh!" She exclaimed. "That reminds me. Come here." She sat up further, lit the lamp on the bedside table and motioned for him to join her on the bed. She started shifting the items she has scattered when she fell asleep into a pile so that he would have room to go through his box once she had given it to him. After a moment, when he didn't join her, she looked up. He was hesitating, the blush deeper than before as his gaze flicked from her to the bed and then toward the desk. She wasn't necessarily surprised that he felt awkward climbing into a bed with her, but this situation was so far removed from anything romantic she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Not wanting to make him feel more awkward, she said, "Trust me, you don't want to sit there. I always thought Sirius was making it up, but he was definitely right; Walburga Black must have cursed the chair because my back was killing me after only a few minutes earlier. Anyway, I have something from Sirius for you."
All hesitation vanished briefly as his eyes lit up at the prospect of something further from his godfather. He immediately moved to the place beside her. "You found it already?" He asked excitedly. When she shot a look of confusion, he explained, "In my letter, Sirius said he left something for me. That I should ask you about his 'secret stash'. Is that it?" He gestured to the box she was now going to try to fish the package meant for Harry out of.
She wasn't surprised to see how eager he was, considered his admission regarding repeatedly reading his letter. Seeing it actually brought a genuine smile to her face. She let out a light laugh.
"It is indeed. Look." She flipped the lid over the top and it returned to looking like a large, plain book. "Notice the title. He wanted to make sure it was something entirely uninteresting to his family. You need a key to open it, but that could probably have been broken by the Blacks or anyone else given enough time. They couldn't do that if they couldn't find it, though." She touched her quaffle charm to the cover and it popped back open.
To her surprise, he looked at the charm intently and she thought she could detect longing in his expression. Quietly, he asked, "Did Sirius give that to you?"
His expression now made perfect sense. Just as softly, she said, "Yes, for Christmas. He had been trying to convince me… well, I think part of him wanted to be prepared, just in case, and I already knew about where he kept his things."
He nodded, but his expression was still clouded with grief, disappointment, and guilt.
Not wanting to let allow them to be sucked into the vortex of all those emotions, Ginny carried on swiftly, fishing Harry's package out. "He left this," she presented it to him, "for you. These" she said handing him his stack of letters, "I think, are all letters that you wrote to him. I didn't look or anything, so I can't be one-hundred percent sure, but that's what mine was," she said gesturing to her own pile. She saw him appraise the size of the stacks the same way she had.
"Don't compare them, Harry," she said lightly. Then she grinned widely. "I talk a lot. Sirius didn't write nearly as often as I did. Plus, my mail wasn't as monitored as closely as yours at first, so I felt a bit more comfortable sending things out. Until Hedwig got hurt at least. Then I was a bit more careful." She shook her head and smiled ruefully, "See? I can get carried away talking. Anyway, if you'd like to keep your stuff in here, I'll let you borrow the charm whenever you want, but first, you should take a look at what he left you. There may be a key of your own already."
He didn't make a move to open the box. Ginny's heart squeezed in sympathy. She knew that hesitation well, having just experienced it herself. She placed a gentle hand on his and he jerked to attention. Green eyes met brown as she said, "I had a hard time too."
He nodded and hesitantly asked, "What did - what did he leave you?" His eyes searched hers desperately for information on what to expect; she knew he wasn't trying to pry, but rather to prepare himself. Still, she hesitated, until she could practically feel the 'I'm sorry' forming on his lips.
Wanting to reassure him, she said, "He left me something of mine I had given him a long time ago, something he had saved. It must have meant a lot to him for him to have kept, which meant a lot to me to see, you know?" She took a deep breath before pulling Snuffles out from under the blanket where he had ended up during all the shuffling. She loved the stuffed animal and Sirius had given it to her - she refused to be embarrassed. Plus, she had a feeling Harry would understand. She had heard about how Padfoot had spent time with Harry in the hospital wing following the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. She showed it to Harry. "He gave me this."
She was pleased to note that she had been correct in her assessment that he wouldn't laugh. Her throat constricted, though, as she watched him tentatively reach out and stroke the fur, the same way she had. Reading his expression, she said, "I know. I couldn't believe it either."
"Yeah," he said in a raspy voice before pulling back and clearing his throat. She pulled Snuffles back to her chest. He turned back to the package before him once more, but still made no move to open it.
Sinkingly, she realized that she may be the problem. Frankly, she knew she should offer to leave and give him privacy, but she felt so much more comfortable there than she did anywhere else in the house. "Harry? Would it be alright if I stay in here with you?" She asked tentatively. "I'm not ready to go back downstairs," she admitted quietly. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and looked down, for fear that looking into his eyes would make her feel guilty enough to force herself to leave. "I won't… I won't watch you or anything. I just want to sleep and I know I won't be able to if I go back downstairs." She bit her lip, feeling the guilt anyway. "Sirius always worked in the study if you wanted to head there. I won't be offended if you want privacy. Just…" she shrugged a little helplessly, hating how weak she was being. "I'd like to stay here."
"Ginny," he said softly, giving her the courage to look up again. His eyes showed understanding. "Of course you can stay here. I- I get what you mean... about feeling closer to him here. If it won't keep you up, I'd like to stay too."
Relieved, she nodded and gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks."
The following moment was awkward as Harry hesitated to begin and Ginny figured out what to do with herself. With a forced smile, she said, "I'm just going to lay back down and leave you to it then."
He simply nodded, lost in thought, his eyes glued to the box in his hands.
Even after she rolled over and settled herself in the bed with Snuffles, she didn't hear him begin. Without rolling over to face him, she said encouragingly, "I stared at my box for a long time too, and even once I started going through it, I didn't make it past the first two items. It's okay to feel nervous."
He didn't say anything, but she thought she could feel him relax beside her. He adjusted his position before she heard him begin with the stack of letters. Being careful not to intrude by focusing on his reactions, she purposefully envisioned the Burrow in her mind and let her thoughts wander through peaceful memories.
"Hey, Gin," he said, pulling her out of her meditation, "you said the letters were what I had sent him..." There was confusion in his tone and when she rolled over to face him, he was holding a letter with his name on it written in Sirius's hand and his brows were furrowed, "but there are several here that he wrote to me that I haven't seen before."
"Really?" She perked up with interest. "I didn't actually go through mine. When is it from?"
He opened the letter with care and his brows shot up in a clear expression of surprise. "It's from last summer," he said in disbelief. He skimmed the text with a gleam in his eye. "It's about Headquarters, the Order, what Voldemort had been up to… everything." His expression was confused and angry. "I was desperate for news and he wrote the damn letter. Why didn't he send me this?"
Ginny cringed, remembering how angry he had been when he arrived last summer. She knew though how anger could mask sadness and recognized it was the isolation, fear, and confusion that had gotten to him, not a simple lack of information.
Gently, she told him, "He did, Harry."
"Clearly, he didn't. Or else I would have gotten it and it wouldn't be here with his things," he bit out.
She sighed. "He did, Harry. I promise. We both wrote to you, actually, really wrote to you. We didn't know it at the time, not until after you arrived, but everyone's mail to you was being screened. Things that weren't supposed to be shared, anything deemed a "security risk" was confiscated. When you claimed to have had no real news, Sirius confronted Dumbledore and got them back." She paused thoughtfully. "I'll have to look through mine, see if the ones I wrote are there too. I never asked what he did with them."
"Why didn't either of you tell me this? I thought you'd all just cowed to Dumbledore and let me fend for myself. It would've been nice to know you didn't," he said incredulously.
She shrugged offhandedly, trying not to show her exasperation or resurrect old issues. "Would it have mattered? You weren't in a good place, and no matter what, you were still going to feel betrayed by Ron and Hermione. Pointing out that we had tried when they hadn't wasn't going to help the situation."
"I guess you're right." He said begrudgingly. A minute later he added more sincerely, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she returned. Grateful the issue had been resolved without bringing up the old wounds between them that she would rather keep dead and buried, she rolled back over to allow him what little privacy she could and pulled Snuffles tightly to her chest, her fingers twined in the fur.
It had been quiet for a while, and despite the shuffling of Harry as he sorted through the box beside her on the bed, Ginny was quite comfortable. At peace, she drifted off to sleep again after a time.
"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence and rousing her from her rest. It was soft enough that she wasn't startled though. "For everything," he added. His voice was heavy enough that Ginny knew he intended to have a serious discussion.
Ginny, exhausted in every way, let out a groan. Grumpily she said, "Harry. Ron told me what you found out. We both know this was more about me than about you… so just, don't. Please."
"I know that. I can't stop thinking about it though. About why you're on His list at all. If we had just paid more attention to-"
She cut him off. Too impatient to listen to all the reasons he was berating himself. "I love you, Harry, but can we please not do this right now? I'm too tired to make you feel better about things that aren't your fault to begin with."
He stiffened and the action caused her to wake up enough to realize what she had said. Fuck, why did I- I'm too tired for this shit. Growing up the way she had, expressing love, both verbally and physically, was such a normal thing that she did it without thought. She had always been careful around Harry though, knowing it had been different for him. Until now, anyway.
Giving up and accepting they would have to have this conversation, she quickly continued, "It would have happened anyway. Bill and Sirius both agreed the diary had to have had a compulsion charm on it. Lucius Malfoy slipped it to me because I was a Weasley, no other reason. Tom Riddle had no idea it would eventually end up in the hands of a child and must have enchanted it to make sure it would overtake fully grown witches and wizards, I'm sure. Maybe things wouldn't have gone as far as they did if people were paying attention, but… none of that matters now. Things are what they are." She yawned then and let herself relax into the bed again. "Now, please shut up about ancient history and let me get some rest before I decide to Silencio you. I can do that now, you know." To emphasize the end of the conversation, she extinguished the light beside the bed and pulled the covers over her head.
There was a tense moment, at least for Harry who still hadn't moved, in which Ginny passively waited for some type of response. The very small part of her that was awake enough to carry on a conversation was as nervous as one would expect after all that had slipped out in her foggy state, but the larger part of her was just too damn exhausted after not having slept properly since the night at the Ministry. She promptly popped back out of her cocoon when the bed started to shake.
She still couldn't see Harry's expression, but she could hear him. He was actually laughing? "Um…" she said somewhat stupidly.
His laughter died down to a chuckle. "I'm sorry, Gin. But I needed that. Thank you. You're right. I've been doing exactly what Sirius told me not to do."
"Oh." At least he hadn't been laughing at me, exactly. "Well, good then. You're welcome."
The ephemeral levity was welcome but wasn't enough to hold back the weight of their situation and they sobered quickly. They lapsed back into silence, each lost to their own thoughts. She knew sleep had retreated enough for now that she decided to get the inevitable out of the way.
"I should probably apologize actually," she said next, sounding reluctant even to her own ears. "I'm sorry for running off like that earlier. You didn't even know what was going on yet, and there I was reacting already." She remembered how the implications had slammed into her until all she could do was flee. "I didn't mean to make it seem like I didn't want to talk to you personally. I just wasn't expecting it or ready to discuss it at all. My parents just- and I didn't know what you would- plus Ron and Hermione- she always has so many questions. And I just-" she cut off her own halting explanation and took a deep breath. "It was just too much and I needed to get away."
"You called Neville, though. You wanted to talk to him." Harry said quietly. She caught the slightest hint of discomfort in his tone, but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or the situation in general.
"I did," she replied in acknowledgment, "but we already talked about why I wanted to talk to him instead of with the three of you."
"I didn't know you and Neville were that close."
"We weren't really. Not until he asked me to the Yule Ball. He couldn't go with who he wanted and I couldn't go without a date at all, so it worked out well. Neither of us had a lot of friends at the time, so we just started spending time together and ended up enjoying ourselves at the dance."
"I should have done that," Harry said, sounding a bit wistful. "When I realized I couldn't go with who I wanted as a date, I should've just asked a friend." He leaned into her side a bit. "We could have gone together."
Too tired to feign politeness, Ginny snorted and nudged him with her shoulder. "Let's not rewrite history, Harry. Even if you had decided to take that approach, we still wouldn't have gone together."
"You mean you would have said no?" He sounded surprised and… offended?
"I mean you wouldn't have asked me anyway," she said in exasperation, then more subdued, "We weren't friends, Harry."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
I know. You keep saying that. It's too late to change it now. All these thoughts were on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she said, "I'm glad you didn't." It was the truth after all and skirted all those old feelings just the same. "Neville has been a really good friend to me ever since."
After a moment, he responded softly, "I'm glad, Gin. I - I know what it's like to not have anyone to confide in. I've been really lucky to have friends like Ron and Hermione, even if I don't share everything with them, knowing they're there is comforting."
Neither one of them brought up what they both knew- that Ginny didn't have anyone quite as close as that. She didn't miss that he was being sincere and offering her something private though. Before she could comment, he surprised her by continuing.
"And you, Gin. I've been thinking about it a lot. Even though I never really noticed it when it was happening, you've always been there for me. Sometimes it was quietly in the background, but there were loads of times you were there for me when I really needed it." She was looking at him now in stunned disbelief. She definitely hadn't expected anything like this from Harry, ever, let alone tonight. His face twisted into a grimace as he continued "I've also realized that I've never been there like that for you. I know - the Chamber - but I mean in the quiet ways, the little things-"
"That's not true," she cut in forcefully. He immediately quieted and she softened her tone as she continued, "You offered to play a game of Exploding Snap with me right after the Chamber. You were treating me like a friend, not like I was weak or dangerous or in need of a minder. That- I can't tell you how much that meant to me."
He quietly processed what she said. She wasn't sure if he remembered the occasion, but she would never forget it. Truthfully, she was in fact a little damaged and possibly a danger to herself, and she was lonelier than ever with the way everyone had been treating her; the fact that he treated her like a normal, unencumbered person made a huge difference in her ability to see herself similarly and act like one. It was clear that she hadn't convinced him, however.
"But you never talked to me, even after that."
Ginny shrugged. "It didn't seem like you wanted me to, and feeling like you're forcing your company on people isn't exactly a pleasant experience." She took a deep, steadying breath before admitting, "If I'm being honest, part of the reason I wanted to talk to him and not all of you was that I don't want it to be this thing where I'm suddenly a part of the group because you have no choice." She paused for a minute, thinking about how she wanted to explain. "My parents included Ron and Hermione because they knew you would tell them anyway, even though it had nothing to do with them. Yet, if I wasn't part of what they wanted to discuss, then I never would have been allowed to stay in the kitchen at all, and none of you would have bothered to share the details with me later." She shook her head and squared her jaw, despite the fact that it was still dark and he wouldn't be able to see. "I won't be an obligation. We'll just… keep doing what we've been doing, and cross any bridges we come to when the time comes."
He stiffened briefly before letting out a deep breath, signaling to her that she was not going to like what he was about to tell her.
"I get it if you don't want to be friends with us-"
"That's not what I meant," she interjected.
"But things have to change now, Gin," he said earnestly, continuing over her. "You're… you're tied in with me now, more so than anyone else, and there are things you'll have a right and a need to know because of it. I know you don't like that it's because of the betrothal, but there are things I have to tell you now."
She slumped in defeat. Some part of her had known this. He was correct though - she didn't like it.
"Alright," she replied quietly. "Can it wait though? I'm exhausted and I know you are too."
He hesitated, but said, "Yeah. It can wait until morning, but… Dumbledore will probably hear about this any minute if he hasn't already and I need - I want to tell you before he gets here."
She let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you. We can do that."
He sounded like he genuinely wanted to share it with her. Maybe it wouldn't have been that way if it weren't for their circumstances, but there was nothing they could do about that now. All they could do was make the best of it.
She considered their conversation. It had been understandably awkward at points, but overall had gone fairly well, she thought. Despite all the turmoil the day had brought, things were looking surprisingly good right now. Today, she had been indulgent and let herself fall to pieces a bit, but tomorrow she could, and would, be better. For now, she was safe here in this room that reminded her so much of Sirius, and, even better, there was no Tom Riddle, no Voldemort, and Harry was safe and whole with her.
She was distracted from ruminating on it any longer by an obscenely large yawn that forced her eyes closed. They didn't reopen.
"Harry?" She murmured sleepily.
She felt him turn toward her. "Yeah?"
"Can we sleep now?"
It was quiet for so long she was almost entirely gone when she felt more than heard his chuckle. "Sure, Gin."
"G'night," she mumbled just before she drifted into a peaceful sleep for the first time in over a week.