The Cerebral Coordination of Ginny Weasley
Rating: T
Author: ValorOrgulloso
Chapter XII: In Which She Feels Hopeless
We'd done it. I couldn't believe it. I stared out the window at the rain, a slushy February turning into March, and comprehension escaped me. The books around me were silent and full of knowledge, but they didn't offer any help.
The library, homework, my lessons; they couldn't help me now.
I felt alone – which went against what all the romance novels said that surrounded me.
I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I was supposed to be happy. I was supposed to feel fulfilled, loved forever. But I didn't. All I felt was scared.
I felt lost. Numb. Strange. I can't really explain it, but I felt like an outsider looking in – nothing seemed real.
What did feel real was the searing pain, though. I walked to the library to do "homework", but I knew that wasn't the case. Harry knew that wasn't the case. But he didn't stop me. He didn't say a word against it. I had sat down at the table closest to the windows and winced.
God, it had hurt. The pain I was having now was just a reminder of how much it hurt when it had actually happened. The pain was fading now, but I would never forget it.
It was hard to face him. Harry. It was difficult. It was awkward. I didn't know what to say. I was clumsy and self-conscious. He was very much the same way.
He stuttered all the time around me and spilled his drink if he had one in hand. We didn't talk much. And if we did, we didn't mention our activities of the past week.
And so I found solace in the library. It gave us a break from the tension between us. It broke my heart to see how far removed from each other we had become. Stale and hard took the place of goofy and tender.
We weren't prepared, that was for sure. We were awkward before the deed, during the deed, and after the deed. It had hurt, and it hurt Harry to see me hurt. I couldn't help but let out that tiny whimper when it had entered, and I felt awful once I saw what that small sound had done to Harry.
But I insisted that we plunge on; no pun intended. And I wished we hadn't. I regretted it. So much. We weren't ready. I didn't know how to act around him anymore.
I still cared for him.
---
I sighed as I saw Harry across the common room. He was asleep. It was late, and we were one of the few Gryffindors still in the common room. I knew Harry and I had to talk about it. I couldn't stand the tension. It had been two and a half weeks, and Ron and Hermione were beyond suspicious. They kept asking us what was wrong, and we would just shrug it off. I saw them corner Harry a couple of times, but he casually insisted nothing was wrong and continued on his way.
I walked across the room to where Harry was asleep in an armchair. His glasses were askew, and he had a book open on his chest. His head was thrown back, and his mouth was open.
I shook him gently. We didn't say anything as he woke up. He opened his eyes, and he saw me. I could see his mouth moving around words that couldn't come out. I slowly raised a finger to his lips, shushing him. I removed the book from his chest and transferred it to a local table.
I felt his eyes follow me as I did this, and I couldn't help but feel the now familiar pang of self-consciousness. He had seen me naked, after all, and I him.
There were no chairs near, and I stubbornly squeezed in next to him on the chair, determined not to let our newfound awkwardness affect my actions.
I felt Harry stiffen as I pushed him over to make room. It was a tight fit, but with both of us small, it wasn't too bad.
I felt Harry slowly slip his hand into mine; hesitant. I looked up at his face. I could tell he was trying not to look away from my gaze.
I squeezed his hand, took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Harry, I…" I broke off.
Even after nineteen days (Hermione should be proud; I remembered the day I had sex – February fourteenth – Valentines Day) after, I was unsure of what to say. I wanted to make things better between us, but it was hard to get the right words out.
I was quiet for a while, and I let Harry mull over things a bit before waiting for him to speak.
"I," Harry said so quietly I could barely hear him. "I care a lot about you, Ginny. A whole lot. More than I ever thought I could about a girl. I care what you think about me. You're smart, you're funny, you're sensitive, you're silly, you're beautiful…" Harry breathed out the last word, and I held my breath. I could tell it was taking a lot for Harry to open up like this, and I didn't want to spoil the moment by moving too fast or talking.
"When you agreed," Harry stopped, and I could detect tears in his voice as it cracked. I was going to say something, but Harry quickly continued. "When you agreed to be my girlfriend, I was so happy. I was happy someone cared. And then we were good together. I thought we were really good together. And I still do!" Harry quickly insisted.
"When we… when we were together like… like that, Ginny, I was so nervous," Harry admitted quietly. "I didn't know what I was doing, but… but I thought that if we were together, then it would be something final. Like you couldn't be taken away from me. Like we would be together and happy for a – a v – very long time." Harry was having trouble holding back tears now. He was looking up and away from me at the wallpaper on the wall. He was blinking rapidly and trying not to sniff too much.
I was quiet as I stared at his sad, forlorn face as he broke down inside and out, and it was hurting me.
"And – and I don't know w – what I –I'd do i –if you – if you b – broke up w – with m – me. B – but I'd under – understand if you d – do." As Harry finished his speech, he tried to not let the tears out, but one escaped and trickled down his cheek. He angrily wiped at it, and looked away from me. Like he was ashamed.
"Oh, Harry," I murmured, releasing his hand. I placed my hands on either side of his face and turned his head to look at me. I wiped a few more tears away with my thumbs as I tried to get his eyes to look at me and not at whatever lay behind.
It seemed useless, so I just started talking. "Harry, I was nervous, too," I admitted quietly, my voice barely more than a gentle buzz. "I was so nervous of what you'd say, of what you'd think. And I wanted to do it so I could be with you. And we did do it. And now we're at odds with each other. And it's all because we weren't ready. But that's no reason to break up. I don't think I could break up."
I stopped talking and looked down into my lap. I dropped my hands. "I think you're gentle and sweet and kind and caring and brave and smart and thoughtful and glorious and perfect in e – every way…"
I stopped speaking and swallowed the lump in my throat.
"I love you!" is what I heard. I looked up in surprise to see Harry with his mouth open. He had said it. Just blurted it out. It hung out in the open, and I finally felt my own tears come to terms with me. He looked shocked he had just said it, too. His face had turned from blotchy red to pale white.
And, not caring it there were three or thirty people in the common room, I buried my face into Harry's sweater and sobbed.
A few seconds after, I felt Harry's arms slip around me. Pretty soon, it became clear that he too was crying all over me, judging by the wet drips streaking down my neck and the shaking coming from his shoulders.
"I – I – love –love you, t- too!" I wailed.
Then I heard a sob-laugh in my left ear.
And so we lay there in a gooey mess of snot and tears, confused beyond belief, but happy.
A/N: Angst with me, BABY!