It had been three days now. Three days since Ginny had woken up and run from Harry's company. She had been avoiding him ever since.
She woke up the morning after the ritual in bed with Harry, something she was quickly becoming used to. Feeling his erection pressed up against her bum was not.
It hadn't scared her. She hadn't even given it much thought at all actually. Years of helping her mother wake her brothers in the mornings had taught her that it was a regular occurrence for teen-aged males. All it really meant was that they had to pee. No, that wasn't why she ran.
She ran from the memories of the night before. Not only had she been a pathetic mess - she hadn't even made it back to Grimmauld Place on her own - but then she had become a raving lunatic under the influence of her cheering charm gone wrong. Harry had had to take care of her the whole time.
So much for not being weak, her inner voice mocked.
As she showered, she repeatedly cringed remembering all her behavior. She decided during the second shampooing of her hair that she needed to take a step back. For one, she wouldn't allow herself to depend on anyone the way she was coming to depend on Harry. For two, he deserved far better than being forced to be her caretaker. She needed to train. Of course Harry would need the training too and would be there, but she would make sure that he could focus on his own skills and not have to worry about her. She just needed to finish up getting ready and then she would make a plan.
Things went wrong almost immediately. The drying charm she usually used to smooth her hair didn't work. She attempted to cast it on only one section, but she only waved her wand once and her whole head dried far too quickly, puffed out in all directions as if she had dried it by flying her broom. It was not amusing, particularly since she had run out of the muggle hair elastics her roommate had given her. She tried another spell to flatten it, but it all stuck to her head.
Every single charm she tried went wonky in one way or another.
It was the change in her magic, she quickly realized. Nothing felt the same as she cast, the magic responding in ways she wasn't used to. Frustrated, she realized she couldn't hope to learn any advanced magic it she couldn't manage to properly cast spells she's been using since she was eleven.
Dejected, she had exited the bathroom in a huff. Unfortunately, she ran directly into Harry. The comfort she felt at his touch only rubbed salt in the wound that was knowing how useless she was to him. Her face burned with both humiliation and anger.
He stepped back from her, looking uncomfortable. "Look, Gin. I just wanted to say I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable. It was a bit embarrassing -".
Ginny knew her behavior had been erratic, but she was feeling shitty enough about her magic and behavior that she snapped peevishly, "I'm not embarrassed." She was, but the last thing she wanted was to talk about it. Gritting her teeth, she said with finality, "And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it again."
Harry looked stunned by her tone and his cheeks tinged with pink. "Right. Um, okay then. That's good, I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped to the side. "I'll just get out of your way then. See you at breakfast?"
She gave a quick nod and went on her way.
She didn't see him at breakfast, however, as she had headed to Longbottom Manor immediately. Her mother had protested, not wanting her out of her sight. Ginny actually felt guilty about what she had said at the stricken look on her mother's face as she silently nodded her consent. It was a good thing she immediately relented though, because Ginny was not to be tested today.
She needed to practice with her new magic to get it under control, but she didn't want anyone to know. Neville and his Gran were busy with social obligations. In fact, they were minutes away from leaving for Neville's great uncle's home for a few days when she arrived. They had no complaints about her using the fortified dueling room in the manor to practice in their absence though.
"I was there yesterday, you know," he had said. He laughed as he continued, "I couldn't get up the stairs, mind you, but I wanted to check in when my owl went unanswered. I'm glad you're up and about today. Use whatever you need. Right, Gran?"
She was grateful that he once again helped her without asking for details, though the Longbottom matron had given her an assessing look, her eyes lingering on the Black ring too long for Ginny's comfort before she nodded her agreement.
Ginny spent the rest of that first day attempting to master her old skills. They all seemed overpowered upfront and faded far too quickly. It seemed her charms were most affected, while other types of spells were not. Naturally, given the Black inclination, her hexes were perhaps even stronger.
The memory of something Tom had said floated through her mind. You've always known there was darkness inside you. Why do you think you took so easily to me, and I to you?
She knew it wasn't real - couldn't be real - but Tom's whispers that she was worthless, that she was weak, that she would get Harry killed were so clear the night before that it shook her. They were still with her this morning as she had fled. The only time she felt remotely better was when she was flinging spells, no matter how ineffectively.
She kept at it all day despite the repeated failures. Just being there, doing something to fix it made her feel better. If nothing else, taking control had made her feel more optimistic. Physically, she was completed drained, but the hopeful feeling was worth the exhaustion.
Spent, she had returned back to Grimmauld Place just in time for dinner, having skipped lunch entirely. She ended up next to Harry, who looked frustrated and unhappy. Neither one of them tried to talk to the other, with the exception of one brief exchange.
"It's good to see you up, Ginny," her father said kindly. She smiled at him, but her heart sped at his next question. "Would you mind filling us all in on what happened yesterday?"
"Harry didn't tell you?" She asked in surprise and dismay.
"I wanted to wait for you," Harry said with a shrug, his eyes on his plate.
Knowing her family as she did, she had expected them to assault poor Harry with questions until he told them everything. As much as she wanted to be in control of the narrative, she also didn't want to have to explain. As she looked around the room, she realized this wasn't the case.
The twins, Ron, and Hermione all looked at her with serious, but interested expressions. Her parents mostly looked worried. Harry was still looking resolutely away from her.
So she took it upon herself to explain in the barest terms. How the bonding had made them equals in the eyes of Gringotts and they had inherited everything from Sirius jointly. How the ritual that made her Head of House Black was tiring and she kept falling asleep. How Fleur had helped by giving her some Pepper-Up Potion. How they had just barely beaten Narcissa Malfoy. At the end of her telling, she realized she didn't have the whole story, however, and turned to Harry.
"What was all that about at the end there? I gave consent for you to sign some things, but I'm just realizing I have no idea what they were."
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was accepting some vault ownership transfers, for a slew of vaults that originated in the Black family that were never claimed after death or conviction of a crime and have just been sitting in limbo basically." He refused to meet anyone's eye. "You should probably go to Gringotts though. I was more worried about you than signing and I'm sure Ragnok has more to explain."
See, you're weak. A distraction. He'll get himself killed because of you. Tom's malicious voice was far too real this time and Ginny shivered. It took every ounce of control she'd mastered over the years to force herself to sound remotely normal as she said, "Right. I'll do that soon, once I get a chance to talk to Bill."
It took a long time for the feeling that Tom was whispering in her ear to fade in the slightest. Though some of Ginny's physical tension drained and her energy returned throughout the meal, the resurgence of her earlier doubts did not abate. The insecurities plagued her and she felt herself spiraling into depression once more despite her improved physical state.
She took a dreamless sleep potion that night, expecting nightmares but not trusting her silencing charm to last until morning.
The next day was a repeat. Shower. Eat. Longbottom Manor for working on her new magic. Dinner, this time without the heavy conversation. Retreat. Dreamless sleep potion.
The third day, she actually saw some improvement in her charms, having gotten somewhat accustomed to the new feel of her magic. She was a bit happier that night at dinner, pleased to be making some progress. Unwilling to admit her weakness, she hadn't confided in anyone about the trouble she'd been having. She'd been so snappish in the brief conversations she'd had with everyone the past few days that no one seemed to want to ask her either. Noticing her improved mood, everyone at the table gave her odd, but hopeful looks.
Everyone except Harry, that is, who looked more taciturn than she had seen in a long time. She wondered briefly if she should ask, but he had been respectful of her boundaries the past few days and she had appreciated it. He deserved the same respect, so she let him be for the time. She was exhausted anyway and excused herself quickly after dinner.
The dreamless sleep potion prevented her from having nightmares, but she never felt as rested after a potion-induced sleep as she did normally. The change in her magic and all the practicing she had been doing had left her exhausted as well. If she weren't taking the glamour potions like clockwork, she knew her mother would have been all over her demanding that she rest.
As it was, no one said anything to either encourage her or stop her from going, though Hermione followed her this time. This is new, she thought. She shrugged it off, having expected the older girl to have questions about her experience with the ritual at Gringotts. Instead of the curiosity she expected, however, Ginny found a look of disapproval on her friend's face.
"I know you've been through a lot Ginny, but you're being incredibly unfair," Hermione said, sounding surprisingly angry.
Ginny blinked. "What?"
Hermione began to pace in agitation. "It's fine if you don't want to talk to us, but you should at least talk to Harry. He deserves that much." Hermione waved her hand and continued as if Ginny had given a coherent response. "Or at least take him with you if you don't want to talk. He's been wearing that ring to help you and it's obvious to anyone paying attention that the magic is irritating him. And he hates being here as much as anyone, but he won't talk about Sirius with any of us. It's not right, you leaving him behind," her friend scolded.
Ginny felt sick with guilt as it hit her. She had been incredibly selfish. In her embarrassment and frustration, she had focused only on fixing her magic. Sure, she had a goal of not being a burden to Harry, but in the process she had forgotten about him as a person and all that he was still going through. Honestly, she felt like the lowest scum of the Earth at that moment. They had been supporting one another through their grief before this, but she had abandoned him.
Her guilt and horror must have shown on her face, because Hermione only glanced at her before nodding. "Glad we understand each other," she said with finality before exiting the room.
Feeling horrible all around, Ginny magically locked the door, knowing it wouldn't last, but needing the privacy of a good cry. Harry had done everything he possibly could to help her since this mess started, yet she'd been nothing but self-centered. Her insecurities had made her so set on being strong enough to handle everything on her own that she'd completely forgotten about Harry's needs in the process. That nasty voice inside her head reminded her, you've always known you could never deserve someone like him.
Her emotional wall crumbled, the tears falling without permission. Weak, the voice in her mind taunted. She had no right to cry, not when she was the one who had done wrong, but she couldn't seem to stop it. Admitting defeat, she decided to give herself five minutes, just five minutes to fall apart, and then she would pull herself together, apologize to Harry, and be there for him. Instead, she drifted off to sleep and fell into a nightmare.
Both she and Harry were tied up, but positioned on opposites of a dark room, Voldemort between them delivering a speech. Ginny focused on struggling against the ropes that held her, focusing on nothing but trying to escape. She could see her wand just feet away - if she could reach it, then she'd be able to free Harry.
She needed to free him.
She was only vaguely aware of Tom ranting about how he'd finally won, but he would give them one more chance to escape. Ginny ignored him and struggled harder, knowing better than to trust him.
"Ginny!" Harry called out. She immediately stopped her struggling and looked up. Voldemort was holding Harry in front of him with his wand pointed at Harry's throat.
"Well, Ginevra? Do you know the answer?" He taunted, his red snake-like eyes alight with malicious glee.
Ginny didn't even know what was happening anymore. "What?" She was confused, but more than anything panicked. He was taunting her with Harry and he knew it. She felt ill just seeing Harry in his clutches.
The defeated look on Harry's face told her she had done something wrong. Voldemort let out a cruel laugh and Ginny began to fight harder. She knew she could save him if she could get her wand.
Voldemort wasn't worried, "Pathetic," he said to her. Then he turned and spoke to Harry. "Too bad the girl never learned how to listen. Had she been paying attention, perhaps you could have survived. Avada Kedavra."
A green light flashed and Ginny woke screaming.
The door flew open. She wasn't sure if the locking charm had worn off or if Harry had simply overpowered it, but there he was. He was by her side before she could blink. She threw herself into his arms without hesitation, no longer concerned with how weak it made her, and sobbed hysterically, reveling in the fact that he was alive and she had a chance, however small, to fix what she had done.
Her earlier conviction to put aside her insecurities was still strong. She knew she had done damage though, that it may be too late and he may not trust her or want her comfort anymore, but she could try. She found herself sobbing over and over, "I'm so sorry." She didn't expect him to forgive her - hadn't she held a grudge when he had forgotten about the Chamber? - but she needed him to know. She owed him that much - really she owed him much, much more, even though she wouldn't blame him in the slightest if he didn't want to accept it.
Harry held her tight, not saying anything, just weaving his hands into her hair for a long time. When she finally calmed enough that she was crying quietly instead of hyperventilating, he pulled back and looked at her face. He looked almost as exhausted as she felt. His expression was guarded, but there was concern buried there as well. In a very matter-of-fact tone, he said, "You look like shit, Gin. Enough is enough. Come on."
He lifted her up and set her on her feet, taking both her hands and leading her from the room. Her parents, Ron, Hermione, and Tonks were all there, just outside the room watching them. Ginny ignored them all, only having eyes for Harry.
The comfort touching him again brought would have overwhelmed her if it weren't for the guilt. Her thoughts were consumed wondering what he was thinking and if she'd be able to make it up to him. Willingly, she followed him up the stairs to Sirius's room.
He held the door for her. She entered, but stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. She wasn't sure what he expected or if he wanted her anywhere near him.
Despite her doubts, she still felt slightly better just being there. The room felt like theirs. It was the one place that they seemed to really open up to one another in a way that they never had before. Comfort washed over her as she looked at the bed, remembering the way he had stayed with her and the way they had laughed together, the memories evoking a slight optimism. It was tempered by her guilt.
She'd never been good at apologizing, but she wanted him to know how she felt. Sniffling, she turned to where he was standing with his back leaning against the closed door. The words rushed out, "I'm so sorry, Harry. I- I've been having a hard time, but that's no excuse. I should have talked to you about it." She had to wipe her nose on her sleeve before continuing. "I didn't mean to push you away. I mean, I did, but I didn't want you to have to worry about me or take care of me. You've done so much already… and I was embarrassed actually. I'm having trouble with my magic and it made me act like a lunatic in front of you and I don't want to be another thing you feel responsible for-" she cut herself off, taking a deep breath. She was rambling and needed to stop making excuses. "None of that really matters though. I was being selfish and only thinking about myself. I didn't mean to leave you alone in this. I'm so sorry."
Harry just looked at her intently. She saw hesitation there, but also confusion. Ice pumped through her veins as she waited for some type of response. Whether it be absolution or rejection, she was sure knowing how he felt would be better than this waiting.
She dropped her eyes and dug at skin beneath her nails. Each one was already raw, but her nerves compelled her to keep going despite the pain and blood blooming there. Harry stopped her, his own hands taking hers and holding firmly.
His expression hadn't changed much, but more confusion was showing through. "What are you talking about Ginny? I thought I had-"
"No," she said forcefully, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Of course Harry had blamed himself. Didn't he always? Guilt and regret warred inside of her, but she pushed both aside, knowing she couldn't let it drag her down until she had set the record straight. "You did absolutely nothing wrong," she said clearly, looking him directly in the eye. "You did everything for me I could have asked for and more."
She paused, having to swallow her nerves before she could force the rest out. It didn't help that Harry was now observing her through narrowed eyes. It was clear he didn't believe her. He made to say something, but she raised her hands in a halting gesture and spoke quickly.
"It made me feel weak. You know I had dreams about him that night and I just kept remembering that I almost got you killed once before." He tried to interrupt again, but she wouldn't let him. "I don't want to be a liability. You shouldn't have to take care of me, Harry. I want to help you. That's why I want us both to start training. But that morning I realized all my charms were going haywire." She looked at him pleadingly, gripping his hands tighter, "How am I supposed to learn more advanced magic if I can't even perform a drying charm on my hair?"
He sighed and pulled back, looking away and allowing his hands to slide out of hers. "I would have helped you," he said quietly.
She shrunk into herself a bit. "I know, but you shouldn't have to."
He continued a bit more harshly, the tone conveying just how much her behavior bothered him, "You asked me to stay with you. You said we'd be like family, but you ran instead of just talking to me. It hasn't been easy for me either."
She nodded contritely. "You're right," she said, her gaze unwavering, trying to let him know how much she meant it. "It was wrong and I'm sorry." Her voice became a bit desperate. "I didn't realize… I didn't want to put my problems on you, but I realize now that instead I just made it worse for both of us."
His face had lost some of the anger that had been present before, exhaustion replacing it. He sat down on the bed and looked down at his left hand, twisting the Black signet ring there. Silence reigned for a long moment.
Eventually, she asked tentatively, "Hermione said the magic has been agitating you. Are you alright?"
He gave her a sharp look that made her drop her gaze a shuffle her feet. She deserved the censure. Given how she felt and the way her magic had reacted, she should have asked long before now how he was feeling. She bit her lip hard, forcing herself to stay both quiet and centered.
She hadn't felt any true measure of control since Gringotts. You're doing it again, she scolded herself. Stop being such a brat. She heard him sigh and shift a bit, but she kept her eyes down, refusing to let him see the moisture that had accumulated there. He'd just feel guilty then, and she had no interest in manipulating forgiveness out of him.
Eventually he spoke, "It's not that bad, more like an itch than anything." He paused, but she kept quiet. "I can hardly feel it now..."
Ginny heard him and understood that he meant "now that you're here." Going to Longbottom Manor had likely made it worse then. The guilt intensified. She nodded, "Right. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have left if I had known. I should have asked."
"It's over now," he said, his voice laced with exhaustion and defeat. "What about you though? Tell me what's going on with your magic."
She turned away to hide her face, distracting herself be trailing her fingers along the desk. He wasn't exactly being warm or friendly, but he was still being far too nice to her. She couldn't help but ask him why, taking a fleeting look at him as she did so.
He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Honestly? The past few days have been utter shite. Am I a little angry that I spent all that time thinking I'd done something wrong when it was your own issue? Yeah." He paused and she glanced at him again, watching as he stared at the ceiling briefly before shrugging. "I wish you would have just talked to me, but I can't really judge you for it when I've done the same. You know that."
His eyes caught hers as he righted his head. This time she didn't look away, searching for any sign that he didn't mean what he was saying. She couldn't detect any deception, only that lingering air of defeat.
She didn't think she deserved to be forgiven yet though. Harry was a better person than she was, so it wasn't surprising that he would want to move on, but it still didn't seem right. He seemed to understand what she was thinking.
"There's no point in holding onto it. You said you're sorry. I believe you. From here on out though, we're in this together, alright?" He asked. The note of uncertainty in his tone told her that while she may have been forgiven, she still had ground to make up in earning his confidence back.
"Together," she nodded. "I promise," she said, making the vow to herself as much as to him. Merlin, just sitting in the same room with him was comforting, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances.
"Now come here and tell me what's been going on with your magic," he instructed.
She sat beside him, careful not to touch him. She knew she'd feel better if she did - the brief moments his hands had held hers she had felt none of the pain or lingering exhaustion she had felt these past few days - but she also didn't want to push him. Instead she tucked her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting and haltingly explained everything that had happened, from the hair drying charm to feathers that hit the ceiling and then dropped immediately when she cast a Wingardium Leviosa. She even admitted the unnerving truth that her hexes were stronger. The only thing she left out was her disappointment that she couldn't cast a patronus at all, not even the faintest silver mist.
Throughout her monologue, he listened attentively, nodding along and staring at the far wall as he considered everything. He made no move to interrupt her. Even when she ran out of breath and things to say, he was quiet for what felt like a long time.
Eventually, he asked, "Have you considered talking to Bill about this? He seemed to know more about this kind of thing than anyone else."
She quickly shook her head. "No. I told you, I didn't want anyone to know. I wanted to get it under control before we talked to Bill again about training."
He looked at her, his gaze appraising with a hard edge to it. "So Neville doesn't count then?"
She didn't like the sarcastic tone, but understood it. If he thought she had been confiding in Neville but not him again… well, if the situation were reversed, she'd be upset too. He was entitled to be offended.
Calmly, she looked him in the eye, doing her best to convey that she was being honest, and said, "I didn't tell him either, Harry. He and his Gran are traveling right now. They've just been letting me use the dueling room at the manor, since it's reinforced against spell damage." She looked away then, apprehensively admitting, "It seemed like a good idea, since I can't trust what my spells will do. It helps that there is no one else around that I could hurt by mistake."
That was another thing she had worried about a lot. She suddenly felt dangerous, like she couldn't trust herself to safely cast magic around others. Every time she tried a spell that could be used in a fight, images of Ron's wand backfiring and Seamus Finnegan's propensity to cause things to explode flashed through her mind, except she knew if something like that were to happen with her magic it would be much worse than those instances.
Harry gently pried her hands off her legs. She hadn't even realized she had released them and had been gripping herself so tightly that she was leaving marks. Relief and regret washed over her when he didn't let go.
Acting this way made her feel horrible - she had no right to look to him for comfort after the way she had been acting - but hiding the truth from him had started this mess in the first place. She did trust him and - had she allowed herself to be near him in private at all before now - she was sure she would have told him already. Why hadn't she just told him? The time for regrets had passed however.
When she looked up at him, she knew that she didn't want to hide anymore. Her eyes filled with tears as she admitted quietly, "I'm afraid. Not being able to control myself... it feels too much like what happened with him. I swear I can still hear his voice echoing in my head." A shiver shook her body just at the thought.
Harry - the wonderful, generous, far-too-good-for-her person that he was - immediately pulled her tightly into his arms. She didn't cry this time, but held onto him as strongly as he held her, grateful he was willing to give her the chance. She promised herself that she'd be better - that she'd find a way to be deserving of all the things he had done for her.
"He's not here, Gin. I won't let him near you. We'll keep you safe, I promise," he said into her hair as he tightened his grip further. She supposed it should have felt uncomfortable, but all she felt was safe.
As much as she appreciated his sentiments, she couldn't accept them. Softly, she said, "I don't want you to protect me, Harry. I want to protect you and help you finish the bastard for real this time." She pulled back then to look at him before continuing. "I know I don't have much right to ask this after how I've been the past few days, but please don't try to leave me behind. Together, right?"
Harry searched her face, his own expression showing apprehension. It was clear that he didn't like the idea of her being with him throughout everything. It would have stung, but there was enough worry in his eyes that she knew it was only because he didn't want her in danger, not because he didn't want her help. She looked back at him steadily, unwavering in her conviction to support him. Resignation flashed in his expression as he recognized she wouldn't be swayed.
"Alright," he answered, although he sounded reluctant. "But we're getting your magic figured out and training before we even consider going out in public again, okay?"
Ginny didn't like it - she hated being treated like a child - but she knew she would be a liability to him until then. Going out like this would put him at risk, because he would undoubtedly be more focused on protecting her than himself. That was one of the last things she wanted, so there was nothing she could do but agree.
"Good," he sighed. He looked at her face again. "You really do look exhausted, Gin. You're still taking those potions, aren't you?"
Her first instinct was to deny it - she couldn't believe she had admitted to that under the effects of the cheering charm - but she pushed it back. It felt shameful admitting it though, and she had to look away when she nodded.
"Let's lie down," he said, tugging on her hand. "You need some real rest."
She didn't argue, sliding up the bed and lying down beside him. He was right. Besides, she always slept better here in this room in bed with him. She didn't allow herself to dwell on why that was. An audible sigh escaped without her permission and she closed her eyes in relief as the tension drained out of her.
"Better?" He asked her softly. His tone was full of warmth. She imagined she could feel it spread out of that single word and into her, chasing away the icy fear that had consumed her for days now.
"So much better," she breathed, scooting closer and taking his hand again.
Harry let out a chuckle, twining his fingers with hers. Realizing what she had just done, her eyes flew open. For the first time in days, his eyes were soft with fondness and amusement as he looked at her.
She felt that once-familiar blush rise to her cheeks. It was the innocent blush of embarrassment at having done something silly, like putting her elbow in the butter dish. There was something nostalgic about it that was comforting, but its inexplicable resurgence now after she hadn't experienced it in Harry's presence for years was troubling. Harry rescued her from having to think about it.
"I agree," he said softly. He sounded as at peace as she felt. It put her at ease to know that he was comforted by her presence in the same manner that she was by him. For all that it was reassuring, the shadow of the way she had run away hung over them still. He kept their fingers twined, but looked away as he continued. "I've been staying here, you know. But it's not the same when you're not here."
"I'm sorry," she repeated. She had a feeling he didn't need to hear it again, but she wanted to be clear that she really meant it.
He shook his head and brushed some hair behind her ear. Ginny felt the same tingling feeling she had when he helped her with her hair the morning of Gringotts. It was stronger this time, the feeling and heat radiating out from the spot in large waves.
The sensation was so powerful that she wondered if it was from being away from him for so long, their connection through the betrothal, or the magic of the ritual that was to blame for it, There was no way it could just be him, could it?
Don't lie to yourself, darling, a voice in her head said.
Unlike the usual ghostly whispers in her mind, this voice was much gentler than any of the others. It sounded almost like her mother. Ginny had to concede that whether there was magic at work here, part of it came down to just Harry being who he was. He had always represented safety and comfort.
After all, wasn't that why she had taken to avoiding him in her second year?
She had liked to use the excuse that it was because she made him uncomfortable; the shade of red he had turned when she handed him that awful singing card in the hospital wing after the dementor incident on the Quidditch pitch proved it, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't quite accurate, however. Deep down, it was really because watching Harry fall out of the sky while Tom laughed cruelly in her head had been one of the worst experiences of her life and she hadn't felt the cold fear leave her until she saw him for herself. He had been pale and shaken, but the simple sight of him alive had made her feel better than all the chocolate and cheering charms she had tried combined. That realization motivated her to stay away; she couldn't be reliant upon him if she was ever going to get better enough to feel decent about herself.
At the time, her reasoning had been sound. He was uncomfortable in her presence, and she needed to heal on her own without using him as a crutch. They weren't friends or anything, so there was no harm in avoiding him or building an emotional wall around any feelings she had toward him.
It had never gone away, she realized. Even as they had developed an actual relationship that went beyond their connection between Ron into friendship, the wall had remained firmly in place. She thought she had gotten over those feelings, but they were just carefully sectioned off in a part of her mind that she dared not acknowledge; she was just too accustomed to it to recognise that it was still there.
Now aware of it, she knew it was going to be difficult to get past. She suspected it may be as hard and painful as tearing down an actual brick wall with her bare hands. If they were going to make this work and really be a team, though, she knew she would have to. It would require more trust on her end than she had given anyone in nearly four years, but she knew that there was no one more worthy of her trust than Harry.
Perhaps that was part of why it was so hard. He was the one person who could make or break what remained of her fragile ability to rely on others. If somehow it all fell apart, she would never be the same. She quickly pushed that thought aside. You can trust him, she told herself firmly.
The soft look she saw when she looked at him strengthened her belief. His face was so close to hers that she could see all the shades that made the green of his so bright, and they were looking into her plain brown ones with such openness and honesty that she decided now was the time to remove the first brick.
"I don't know what to do," she admitted. She felt the wetness that gathered in her eyes, but she refused to blink and let the tears fall. "Will you help me?"
It was a quiet question, laced with uncertainty. Admitting how lost and defeated she truly felt made her feel more exposed than if she had been standing in front of the class and pulling off her jumper.
Harry's gaze didn't waver. His voice was soft, but it was sure as he replied, "Of course I'll help, Gin. Whatever is wrong, we'll find a way to fix it." He paused. "Just not tonight, okay? We could both do with some rest."
She nodded, her eyes closing. The exhaustion teamed with all the crying she had done recently made her eyes burn even while shut. Unconsciously she scooted closer to him, sighing in relief at how good it felt to be so close to him again.
"I really missed you." The words had escaped without her consent.
They were more like a breath than actual words, and she fervently hoped he hadn't heard. Fate wasn't on her side, it seemed, and she felt him freeze. She squeezed her eyes tighter to ward against the feeling of utter humiliation at her admission. Maybe the bed will open up and swallow me whole.
The inner turmoil was short-lived. Barely a beat passed before Harry replied just as softly, "Me too."
Her eyes flew open, wondering if she had imagined it. The look he gave her was so shockingly tender that she must have heard him correctly. This has got to be some kind of dream. But when his hand slipped out of her hair and down so that it was cupping her cheek, she could feel the pulse in his wrist where it lay against her neck beating as rapidly as her own and knew it had to be real - she'd never experienced a dream that tactile before.
His thumb stroked her cheek. The feeling that simple actions brought was so overwhelmingly peaceful that she was tempted to close her eyes and let herself melt into it completely, until all the jagged edges and worries that had been consuming her thoughts lately had been smothered by it. She couldn't bring herself to break eye contact, though, because his gaze was still direct and locked onto hers.
There was a tension between them that was completely unexpected. Ginny honestly didn't know what to do with it. Her heart pounded in her chest and heat radiated throughout her, preventing her from doing anything other than stare at him with wide eyes. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Harry broke the connection.
He looked away and cleared his throat. "We really should get to bed," he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual. It could have been her imagination, she guessed. The blush on his cheeks that she glimpsed before he pulled his wand and extinguishing the lamps was definitely real, however.
"Yeah," she replied, flipping onto her back. She didn't focus on the breathless quality to her voice. Her mind was too busy spinning as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Harry had never looked at her like that before. She had never seen Harry look at anyone like that before, not even Cho.
Her thoughts racing, she sat stock-still while he removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. He had to roll away to reach it, but he quickly came back to her side. The movement had left slightly more distance between them than before. Even though their bodies were close enough that she could feel his heat, there was enough space between them that they didn't touch. The lack of contact left her feeling bereft.
In the minutes that followed, neither one of them spoke or moved. Finally he shifted a bit and Ginny shifted automatically in response. Whether it was her movement or his that had done it, their hands touched and their fingers intertwined again. Their rigid postures thawed simultaneously at the contacted.
Feeling much better now, Ginny let out a light laugh. "Goodnight, Harry," she said warmly.
She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "Goodnight, Gin."