Hard Truths: HARRY

Forget about splashing water on my face. This time it felt like someone dumped a bucket of solid ice on my head and the slab clonked me so hard I was seeing stars. The sharp inhale I took sanded my throat something awful.

"Finite," she whispered hurriedly, but not fast enough. With the sudden loss of the ropes came a loss of whatever tension was keeping me pressed up against the wall. The linoleum felt cold under my sweaty palms when I slipped down to my hands and knees, gasping for air, for touch, for relief of a different kind.

"Bloody hell…" Ron said from the other side of the jamb. He had gotten over his initial flinch-and-look-away reaction, but I wish he kept his eyes covered. And his mouth. The last time I had seen it opened so wide was when the Great Hall made Shepard's pie. Granted, that time it was stuffed with food, and not utter disbelief.

"D'you know what knocking is?" Ginny yelled. She flung a shirt – my shirt – at him. Ron ducked without wiping the alarmed look off his face.

"I thought this was Harry's room!" he exclaimed.

"It is. Now get out!"

"Why should I? I came to talk to him!"

"And I was here first!"

"Doing what exactly?"

"None of your bloody business!"

I was looking between both Weasleys with an expression probably as pained as I felt. I almost thought they had forgotten about me entirely when Ron's gaze found me on the floor; still flushed and panting and now panicked about the way he was less bewildered and angrier by the second. It was very clear what was going on, and it was even clearer that it was his business the more crystal it got.

"At first I was disgusted," he began. Ginny was too busy adjusting her dress to notice the way a sneer was spreading on Ron's face like an oil spill. Like a disaster waiting to happen. "But now I couldn't be happier for the both of you."

Whatever fanciful brotherly truce I saw coming out of this confrontation I imagined hundreds of times was long forgotten. Instead of giving me the earful I probably deserved, he was going to get me where it really hurt. He was going to tell Hermione.

"A spell," I said. I got to my feet with the desperation of a man that knew it was over but wouldn't let go. Ginny was the perfect picture of perplexed, but reached for my arm anyway to help me up. The pleasant ache returned full force at the skin-on-skin contact and the cry I barely held back burned. The potion didn't care about what damage it already caused. It didn't care one bit. It only had one objective and it was doing it quite well. "She was teaching me a spell."

"A spell," Ron said, unconvinced. When I crossed my arms over my chest to maintain my illusion of modesty, I felt where the ropes bit into my skin. His eyes trailed down to my obvious problem and he shook his head. I covered there too. If I had enough arms I'd cover my face as well.

"Yes, a spell," Ginny responded slowly. She looked at me as if I had anything to add except a pleading glare. I'd known Ron for a long time, and if I knew anything about him at all it was that he wasn't as dense as people made him out to be. Not even the truth could stop him now. She addressed her brother, only making it worse. "You know, before he leaves."

"What kind of spell calls for the lack of clothing?" Ron asked. I said nothing. She said nothing. There was nothing to say. "Yeah, I thought so."

"And so what, Ron?" Ginny asked. I turned to her so quickly I hurt my neck. This was where he walked out and destroyed the only good thing in my life. There wasn't supposed to be a second act. Ron seemed just as surprised. "So what if Harry and I going to –"

"Whose side are you on?" I asked, horrified.

"Does it matter?" she asked me. She turned to Ron, all fiery and red and Ginny. "Does it matter? I really wish everyone would stop treating me like a child. I can do what I bloody well want."

"Sure you can. I'll let you get back to it."

With two flicks of her wand, the door slammed and locked.

"Now, where were we?" she said, rounding on me. Frustration rolled off her in waves. As she came closer, every fiber of her being was screaming that she was going to prove to me and everyone else and she could bloody well do what she wanted. I didn't doubt that at all.

"Listen to me, Ginny," I said whilst edging backwards, matching her step for step. The wall hit my back sooner than I thought it would.

"No, you listen to me." Her voice was steeped in an authority I didn't know she could possess. Before I could slip away, I was effectively pinned with two hands on either side of me pressed into the wall so hard I thought they'd go through it. "Is it me? Is something wrong with me?"

"No, it's not that. It's not – Aah!" She pressed her taut body flat against mine, stiff with the defiance and anger of a person desperate for answers. Fabric rubbed on bare flesh. Pleasure clenched in my gut.

"Then what is it? You used to like this." Her hands found their way to my back and I arched away from them and inadvertently into her, which wasn't helping my cause. "You used to like me."

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny. Stop," I cried. She didn't seem fazed, and why would she be? She had me between a wall and a hard place. She had me right where she wanted.

"You're playing your part a little too well," she said, breath ghosting against my neck. I shivered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you weren't turned on."

A second later, she was flat on her arse and I was already halfway across the room.

"You pushed me!" she yelled.

"I said stop!" I raged. The shirt I was looking for was outside, I realized. The door wouldn't budge under her locking charm.

"But that doesn't mean you can push me!" she yelled back. I should've felt guilty but I didn't. Well, I did. But if anyone else had a better idea they could speak up at any time. My urge to say sorry disappeared as soon as she stood. I never thought that seeing her smooth back her hair could be so threatening, but when you had some sort of lust potion in you, everything seemed scarier than it was. I got as far away from her as physically possible.

"What the hell is your problem?" she asked.

"My problem? You're the one trying to – to seduce me or something."

"I thought we could have a little fun –"

"We can't do this kind of stuff anymore, Ginny!" I tried to lower my voice. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"What part of 'broken up' don't you understand?"

"I just don't understand why. Just tell me w –" She stepped closer again but this time the hand I put up stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes darkened. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you look at me like I'm filth? Like I'm not worthy of your greatness. It's the least you could do."

"What greatness? If you know something great about my life then by all means, feel free to let me know."

"I couldn't give two fucks about your sob story!" she snapped, a vision of passion and malice. My mouth flew open but I paused before I said something I would regret later and she paused to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry." It was a whisper, but I heard it. This was insane to me. This whole thing. This shouldn't have happened. This wasn't how today was supposed to go.

"You had this all planned out, didn't you?" I asked. I was angry, at her, at Ron, but at myself mostly. I was angry because I felt like it was both my fault and not, and I didn't know which one it was but I did know that while I was locked in there with Ginny, my best mate had turned on me and was in the process of having Hermione do the same.

"Planned out what?" she asked. Her features had softened to confusion.

"You heard me. The potion, Ron finding us, Hermione…The whole lot," I said. She was the only one there to be mad at, and so there I was, being mad at her. "If you hadn't done this, if you hadn't…"

"What are you talking about?" She looked absolutely lost. "And what's she got to do with this?"

"I don't know how much thicker you can get," I said.

The next thing I knew, she had gotten so close that my heart jumped into my throat and stayed there. Her livid face was full of spite. She didn't touch me, but the threat was there and it was very real.

"What was that, Harry? Say it again. I didn't hear you the first time." She was angry and tense with waiting. I didn't say it again. I couldn't.

"You really don't know, do you?"

She placed her hands on her hips.

"Enlighten me."

"Okay," I said. It was a lot harder to look at her than I thought it would be. This was the girl who pinned over me for years, who loved me more than I could imagine, and who was so happy to call me hers. This was the girl who was ready to make me an official part of her family. I owed it to her to look at her when I said this. It was the least I could do.

"Hermione and I: We're an item. If you could call it that."

Nothing. The announcement I thought would crush her was met with nothing.

Ginny stared at me for what felt like hours. I was starting to get uncomfortable, and then I was starting to get annoyed. I was going to say as much before she dissolved in a paroxysm of snickering. And not just slight giggles but loud, bent at the waist, tear-jerking laughter.

"What's so funny?" I asked. She held up her hand as if to ward off the absurdity of my words.

"An item? Really?"

I frowned.

"Well, yes. I don't see what's so –"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No I…what the hell are you laughing about?"

Her chuckling continued for a few moments before she got herself under control.

"I'm just surprised that you actually made a move on her and all."

For the record, she was the one who made a move on me but that was beside the point. Ginny took her cup from the silver platter and sat on the edge of the bed. I continued standing warily.

"You knew?"

"Knew that you two went off studying more than I liked? Yes. Knew that you had the guts to ask her out? Not quite." She took a sip of the tea that must have gone lukewarm by then. "Guess I learn something every day."

I leaned against the wall suspiciously. I already pulled the pin from the grenade, so I expected her to explode at any moment.

"You're taking this better than I thought."

She shrugged.

"It was bound to happen."

I tried to figure out what was going on in her head but I was the farthest thing from a legilimens I could think of. Though, I couldn't shake the feeling that the Ginny I knew wouldn't just sit there and sip drinks indifferently as we discussed my love life sans her. Hearing that I'd moved on had to hurt. It just had to.

"I figured something was up when I got back from Hogwarts and Ron was here," she added as if sensing my poor attempt at mindreading.

"He didn't say…"

"No, he didn't say anything." She took another gulp of tea and winked. "Your secret's safe."

The silence that followed was deafening. Suffocating even, and tainted with the unmistakable hint of teenage awkwardness that had me staring out the window even though I couldn't see anything through the frost.

"Sorry," I said eventually. And I was. This wasn't the way I wanted to tell her about Hermione, and I really was sorry for it.

"It's all right."

"No it's not."

No, it wasn't. But since she already started the cycle of self-loathing, there was nothing I could say that to make her feel any better or any worse. The conversation was over.

"You mind?" I asked, nodding towards the door. I muttered my thanks when I heard the lock disengage but was unable to stop myself from engaging her one last time before I left.

"Uh, Gin…"

She twisted away from me. Her hair covered her face.

"Just go talk to her."

Her shoulders shook and with that, I slipped out the room and shut the door quietly behind me.