Chapter 12
Draco sat alone on his four-poster bed at Durmstrang. He had been meticulously packing his bag, sorting clothes and books, and organizing his trunk. Graduation was nigh, and with it, came the pivotal part of the Dark Lord's plan, and Draco knew he must be prepared.
He had spent hours sorting what he would need for the task, and what could be left behind, when he lifted an older book out of his trunk, and several photographs fell from its pages. He lifted the photographs to examine them. The first photograph showed him standing next to his mother and father, holding up his Hogwarts letter. His mother almost looked sane in the picture, though she looked nervously around at Draco's father, and was wringing her hands. Lucius had a bored expression, and was cold and distant as always. Draco was holding up the letter, smirking slightly. The second photograph was of Draco in his new school robes. He was not smiling or smirking, but held a mask of cold indifference. He remembered this day. He had shouted at the seamstress who had taken his measurements, and purposely tipped over one of the glass bowls containing pins and ribbons. His father had whipped him that night, before he tried on his robes, but he was determined to wear them without a whimper of pain.
The third photograph was well-worn. It was a photo of five-year old Draco, sitting in his swing on the grounds of Malfoy manor. Kneeling down on the ground next to him, was a lovely young woman, red-haired and smiling, her arm around Draco. She was tickling him, trying to get him to smile, and he was trying with all his might to keep the scowl on his face, only half-succeeding.
Draco stared at the photo for mere seconds, before viciously tearing it into pieces and throwing it into the flames of the fireplace. The second he did, there was a knock at the door, and a familiar face entered.
Blaise Zabini had arrived, giving Draco his monthly update on Hogwarts, Harry fucking Potter, and of course, Ginevra. They spoke at length about their plans, about the Dark Lord's mission and finally, Draco turned the conversation to his red-headed siren.
"How is she?" he asked, "Is Potter keeping his hands to himself?"
"Actually," Blaise said with a smile, "I think our little rouse the other day worked. Pansy must have messed with his head pretty good. He's been mopey and brooding...all depressed-like."
"Good." he said, pulling a bottle of Ogden's Fire whiskey from under his bed, releasing the cap and taking a swig.
"But..." Blaise began, raising a halting hand.
"But, what?" Draco demanded sharply.
"We have a new problem. Now that Potters backing off, others are starting to notice. Weasley has been less... well, anti-social , and people are starting to talk to her. Blokes are starting to talk to her. Infact, she's going to Hogsmeade with a bloke from Ravenclaw. Corner, I think."
" Seriously , Zabini?" Draco spat angrily, his face growing red. "I don't have time to deal with this. Why didn't you stop him? What on earth have you been doing down there?"
"Contrary to what you believe, Malfoy, I do have a life other than being your errand boy. Give me a fucking break!"
Draco flew from where he sat, grabbing Blaise by the collar of his robes and pulling down roughly.
"Contrary to what YOU think, Zabini," he sneered, eyeing him with his one good eye, "you ARE an errand boy."
He shoved him into the wall roughly, shaking off his robes as he did so.
"Take care of it. Threaten Corner, hex him, I don't care. Just take care of it." He walked to the door of his room, opening it and gesturing for Blaise to leave.
Blaise raised himself up off the ground with as much dignity as he could muster. He brushed off his robes, walking to the door with a scowl. As he walked out the door, Draco slammed it behind him with a bang. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Adjusting the black fabric across his head, he wondered why the simple task of keeping the boys at Hogwarts from pawing at Ginevra seemed to be so difficult.
X
Harry Potter was miserable.
He sat at his table in potions, his head resting on one hand propped up by his elbow, while the other hand slowly prepared his ingredients. He was only halfway reading the instructions, but he didn't care. In fact, he didn't care if he managed zero marks for the day. All he knew was that he was in a foul mood, as he had been for days.
The night he had met with Dumbledore and Bill had been easily one of the worst of his life. Dumbledore came clean, for the umpteenth time, with information that had been withheld from Harry, and it did not go well. Harry had felt anger, betrayal, and a sickening feeling of being... used by Dumbledore, who had suspected all along that Harry might be a Horcrux. Not to mention the fact that, deep down, Harry knew it himself, had somehow suspected it all along, but making it real was something else entirely. Wondering if he would have to die, and knowing he would have to die, were two different things entirely.
Harry grabbed the next ingredient, Lionfish spine, and began crushing it. The recipe didn't call for it to be powdered, but Harry was crushing it so vehemently that it would end up being powder either way.
That night had only gotten worse, he thought, sliding the powder into his cauldron, not caring if that was actually the next step in the directions or not. Because as much joy and fun as there was to be had in thinking about his own impending death, he also found out by Bill, that the person who occupied his thoughts near every moment of every day, was also going to experience an early death. The news left a gaping hole of shock somewhere in his middle, and even the next morning, he had to remind himself that he had in fact heard those words from Bill's lips...
She's cursed. She's cursed, and she's going to die.
Harry remembered reeling from the blow. Cursed?
Harry grabbed a handful of dandelions, using a small paring knife to slice up the stems.
He had had so many questions for Bill, but so in shock was he, that there had been almost a full minute of heavy silence between them. In the minute that passed Harry allowed the words to assimilate in his mind somewhat.
Ginny. Cursed. She was going to die.
Harry missed the dandelion and nicked his finger, but he continued on, unfazed. Bill had told Harry the whole, sickening story of how she came to be cursed, and how her parents, and Bill, who had been sworn to secrecy, had to not told her. Harry felt the same anger and betrayal that he had felt at Dumbledore ride up in him against the Weasleys. Didn't they know what it felt like to be lied to? To be tricked? To have such important things hidden from them?
Bill had prattled on about how when parents love their children, they often do stupid things to protect them, much like how Dumbledore had hidden vital information from Harry because he wanted to see him happy for a time...
Harry threw the sliced dandelions into the cauldron without looking. He reached for the next ingredient, Lobalug venom. He knew it had to be diluted before adding it to the potion.
He had demanded to know when the Weasleys planned on telling Ginny, and Bill had assured him they would tell her after graduation. Harry groaned inwardly, thinking about how that conversation could possibly go over.
Happy graduation! Oh, and by the way, we didn't tell you, but you're going to die very soon.
Harry stopped what he was doing, and put his forehead in his hands, taking a deep breath. He had thought that staying away from her would keep her from harm, but in the end that hadn't mattered at all...
He looked up from his hands and glanced over to the table where Ginny was sitting with Hermione. They had their heads together, smiling and talking quietly. Harry didn't have to eavesdrop to know that they were talking about tomorrow's Hogsmeade trip, where stupid Corner was going to spend the day with her. Harry allowed himself to stare for a moment. Ginny had been ignoring him the last few days, but he didn't blame her... he had been in such a foul mood and her proximity tempted him to blurt out the truth. She had seemed happy, though. She was smiling prettily, and her posture and aura were so much more comfortable than they had been weeks ago. Harry imagined what would change once she found out her fate... would her face crumble in pain and betrayal like his had? Would she run away, seek last minute adventures, hide at home in the Burrow? Would she flee back to Egypt? Would she continue on as if nothing had changed?
Unbidden, an image of Ginny's face appeared in his mind, her devastation clouding her, as she sunk to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Then that vision morphed, and she was clad in long white robes, lying on a stone bed, face pale and unmoving in death. Her long hair splashed across the stone, falling off the side. The Weasleys, all dressed in black mourning, took turns lying red roses across her body, and all faces were shrouded with sorrow. The vision morphed again, and a second stone altar appeared next to Ginny's, and Harry saw himself lying upon it, dead and unmoving. The sky was dark, and cold, and the Weasleys and the Order and Dumbledore all stood around the two young bodies, shaking their heads and tears of sadness flowing freely...
Ginny didn't deserve to die, he thought. At least his own death would be serving a purpose, but even then, it was so unfair. Why? Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why her?
Why did life have to be so FUCKING UNFAIR?
"OUCH!"
In his anger, Harry had been squeezing the bottle of Lobalug venom so tightly that it had shattered in his hand. The venom sizzled and began to burn painfully through the layers of skin on his hand.
"Watch yourself, Potter!" Professor Slughorn admonished, walking briskly over to his table, "that's very acidic venom, it's quite caustic to bare skin!" He reached down and picked up Harry's injured hand, which was beginning to blister painfully, the skin starting to slough. Slughorn tsked at him. "Best get to the hospital wing quick as you go." He gestured Harry to the door.
"I can help, Professor. I'm quite good with burns."
Harry turned and was surprised to find Ginny standing next to his desk, her wand out. She reached out her other hand. "Bill and I dealt with burns all the time in Egypt, and not just from the sun. Come on, Potter, let me see."
Harry looked at Slughorn who gave him a nod, before proffering Ginny his injured hand. The burn was quite painful and spreading, the blisters bursting and turning an angry red. Ginny placed her wand just above his hand, muttering several spells. His hand glowed a faint blue, and he felt a lovely cooling sensation. The blisters began to shrink, and the open red skin appeared to be repairing itself rapidly. The pain was minimal, just a dull ache. Ginny retracted her wand and smirked slightly, eyeing her work satisfactorily. Harry pulled his newly healed hand back, but his eyes stayed fixed on Ginny, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if daring him to critique her work.
"Well done, Miss Weasley!" Beamed Slughorn, walking over and patting her shoulder. "That was beyond a NEWT level healing spell! You've got a talent, I'd say."
Ginny blushed, smiling. "Thank you, professor. I want to be a Healer. I've already began studying for Healer training."
"Well, then, I will tell Madame Pomfrey you should have some private lessons with her. I will tell her you come highly recommended by me."
Ginny was positively beaming now, and Harry's insides were melting at the sight.
X
Saturday night, Ginny collapsed onto the couch in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, pleased with how the day had passed.
She had spent Saturday morning with Madame Pomfrey, who agreed to give her private lessons until graduation.
Then, she had spent several hours in Hogsmeade with Michael, who had been a perfect gentleman.
"So," Hermione said smiling, sitting down on the couch next to Ginny, "How did your date with Michael go?"
Ginny fidgeted with the sleeve of her cardigan, looking shyly away from the girl's eyes. "It was... nice."
"Nice?"
"Yes, Michael was a perfect gentleman. He held the door, asked me about myself. I mean, there were a few times it was a bit... boring, but I think we just need to get to know each other. He was really very sweet."
"That sounds lovely, Ginny. I knew he would be good to you."
Just as the words left Hermione's mouth, Ron and Harry entered the common room. They eyed the two girls briefly, before setting themselves at a far table.
Ginny sighed. "Will Ron always be like this? I kept looking over my shoulder at Hogsmeade... I was convinced that he had tailed me there."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I kept Ron occupied for you, just in case... But you know it's because he loves you, right?"
Ginny shot a nasty glare over where Ron sat. "He's got a funny way of showing it."
Hermione let out a chuckle. "Don't we all?" she trailed off, eyes thoughtful. She turned back to Ginny after a moment. "Will you go out with him again?"
Ron and Harry seemed to have heard Hermione's question, because they both stopped what they were doing and looked over at them. Ron had a look of panic on his face, but Harry's was closed and unreadable. She ignored them and spoke to Hermione.
"Actually," she said quietly, a smile on her face, "He's asked me to the graduation ball, and I've said yes."
"Oh, Ginny, that's wonderful!" Hermione gushed, Ron and Harry began making grumbling noises, and without looking back, Hermione raised a hand and waved it towards them, "ignore the idiots. Can you believe in one week we'll be graduated? It's come so fast!"
Ginny nodded nervously. "It's a bit scary though. Another big change."
"Another big adventure." Hermione reminded her.
"Yes, an adventure."
X
It was the night before final exams, and Ginny couldn't sleep. She stayed up late, watching the dying embers in the fireplace in the common room. She was in her pajamas but wore her enchanted cardigan for its warmth. She let her thoughts flit around in her head, but they were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Can't sleep?"
Ginny turned around and saw Harry descending from the Boys dormitory. His countenance seemed a bit more cheerful than it had been of late, and her current level of annoyance at him decreased just a smidge.
"Last minute nerves getting to me, I guess." she confessed.
Harry smiled in understanding, walking over to the comfy couch she sat on. He gestured to the spot next to her. "May I sit with you?"
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well that depends, Potter. Are you here to mope? Are you here to brood? Because, if so, you may not sit, because I've had just about enough of your terrible mood-"
"I'm here to apologize." He looked at her solemnly.
"Oh," she said, slightly taken aback. But she scooted further to the side of the couch, allowing him plenty of room, and gestured him to sit. "Well, alright then."
Harry plopped down on the couch, exhaling loudly as he did so. He went quiet for a few moments, and Ginny looked at him expectantly.
He finally turned to look at her, his green eyes looking serious.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Ginny snapped. Afterall, she was angry at him for a handful of things.
He blushed guiltily. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "I know I've been absolutely foul to be around lately, and I was pretty terrible to you about going out with Corner, and... and I never even said thank you when you healed my hand." He leaned forward on his knees, wringing his hands, but still looking at her. "I'm really sorry, Ginny."
Ginny sat back and folded her arms. "Well," she said loftily, "I think that just about covers all the reasons that I was angry at you for.
Harry smiled, "So am I forgiven, then?"
"Easy, Potter," she admonished with a smile, "let's just see how things go."
And with that, things were almost back to normal. They were friends again. Harry asked her about her lessons with Madame Pomfrey, and Ginny asked Harry about beginning Auror training.
Still, though it was well-hidden, Ginny could see occasional glints of sadness in his eyes. The sadness tugged at her heart, and she found she couldn't help but blurt out the words before she could stop herself.
"Harry, what did Dumbledore say to you in that meeting?"
She regretted the words the second they left her lips, and when Harry visibly flinched and screwed his eyes shut at the question, she felt her insides twist.
"Oh, gods, Harry," she said shakily, "I'm so sorry, its none of my business. You just haven't been the same since- I mean that's no excuse- I shouldn't have- I really don't-"
But Harry, as always, was quick to forgive her bout of word-vomit. He held up a hand, stopping her rambling apology.
"It's alright, I get it. And... you're right actually, I haven't been the same, not at all." He looked at her with a calculating look. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and Ginny could see the wheels rapidly spinning in his mind. He seemed to come to some sort of decision, when he cleared his throat, and turned to face her fully.
"Gin, look," he trailed off, and the pained sadness was back in his face, "after graduation, I'll tell you everything, as long as you promise to keep it to yourself. Can you do that?"
"Of course, I can! You don't really have to tell me at all, you know... it's really none of my business."
He gave her an odd look, examining her closely.
"You deserve to know." He said quietly.
They were sitting very close again. His knees were touching hers, and she could almost feel his breath on her face when he spoke. There was something sparkling in his green eyes, and his mouth was open just so slightly. She found herself wishing that Harry had been the one to ask her to the ball, that he would be the one opening doors for her, dancing with her, and kissing her hand... but she had been wrong about this before. That wasn't something Harry wanted... but when he was looking at her like this... well, she wondered if she could possibly have it all wrong... because his breathing had become heavier, and he had just licked his lips like he was wondering what a kiss with her would taste like, and his hand had moved just slightly off his lap so that it was touching her knee, and suddenly the room was so warm she definitely didn't need her cardigan...
"Do you have to go to the ball with Corner?" he whispered, and this time she definitely felt his breath. But his words brought her back to reality, and once again, she found herself utterly confused by Harry Potters behavior. She leaned back away from him, willing away her irrational thoughts.
"He asked me, and I said yes." She said quietly, but with a warning in her voice that Harry should stay in his lane.
Harry seemed to battle with something mentally for a moment, but then to her surprise, he smiled, and patted her leg. "Corner's a good bloke. You're going to have a great time, Ginny." With that gesture, the atmosphere was back to the casual, friendly one it had been moments ago. Ginny was so perplexed she found no words, she just stared at Harry stupidly.
He laughed at her look, then got up off the couch.
"Well, I'm off to bed. Dream of exams tonight!"
He trudged up the staircase and out of sight.
Ginny finally closed her mouth.
What on earth had just happened?
X
The next night signaled the end of the first day of exams. There was one more day to go before the seventh years could celebrate the blissful freedom they so yearned for.
Most of the students had gone to bed early, mentally exhausted from the strain, but a few students were scattered in the library and common rooms, catching up on last minute notes for the next day.
Harry had been wandering the castle corridors, trying to walk off some of his anxiety. Part of him was worried about his exams, and the other part of him wondered, what was the point? Both parts battled and left him feeling restless. The feeling of restlessness increased when he glanced at the marauder's map and saw that Ginny was just outside the library, her dot alarmingly close to Michael Corner's dot.
Much later, as he paced an empty corridor, trying to walk off his frustration, he heard footsteps approaching. He reached into his pocket to check the map, but before he could, a boy appeared, walking swiftly, his hand on his face.
Harry halted mid-step. It was Michael Corner. Michael only glanced at him briefly, a flicker of fear passing over his face. That was when Harry got a good look at his face, and the state that it was in. His lip was split and bleeding, and one eye was bloodshot and blackened, rapidly swelling. Michael averted his gaze away from Harry, before hiding his face with his hand and shoving past him, headed towards the Ravenclaw dorms. Harry watched him retreat, before a cold realization hit him.
He had been with Ginny...
A million scenarios passed through his mind, each worse than the last. He fumbled in his pocket to quickly withdraw the map. He studied it for mere moments before breaking into a dead run.
X
Ginny was headed back to her dorm from the library.
Her mind was reciting various facts on transfiguration, when she was promptly accosted by a very out-of-breath Harry Potter.
"Harry! What on earth-" before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her into an empty classroom. She yanked her elbow out of his grasp, ready to admonish him, but she stopped when she saw the look of panic on his face. He looked almost ill, pale and sweaty, but his eyes were wide as he grabbed her shoulders, giving them a slight shake as he spoke to her.
"What happened?" He demanded, "Did he hurt you? Did he try something?" He frantically began looking Ginny over, searching her for any possible injuries.
Ginny put her hands on Harry's chest, trying to calm him.
"Harry," she said in a soothing voice, "What's going on? Nothing happened to me, no one is hurt, it's alright-"
"I saw him!"
"Who?"
"Corner! I saw him, and he looked like he had been beat up or- or hexed- or something, and I had seen you two together on the map and I thought- I thought-"
"Harry!" she said, putting her hands on his face, "It's alright. I was just talking with Michael, he was fine, no one is hurt."
"No, no, Ginny, I saw him! His lip was split and bleeding, and he had a black eye."
Ginny paused.
Someone had hurt Michael?
"Harry, do you think he's alright? Did he say who did it?" She asked worriedly.
Harry shook his head. "He didn't say anything, he just ran off towards the Ravenclaw common room."
Ginny bit her lip.
"Why would someone want to hurt Michael?"
As far as she knew, Ron and Harry had been the only ones with anything bad to say about the boy, and as much of a tosser as Ron could be, she knew he would never resort to beating the poor guy up...
She looked at Harry questioningly, and he had finally seemed to calm down a bit. He shrugged his shoulders wearily.
"I don't know."
X
It was graduation.
Riding home for the last time on the Hogwarts Express, Ginny could hardly believe an entire term had passed, and that she had completed a great milestone in her life. The seventh years on board were all wearing smiles ear-to-ear, and even Harry had been quite cheerful. Hermione was chattering away about summer courses and NEWT results, and Ron prattled on about what food was going to be served at the ball that night.
Speaking of the ball, Ginny thought, she wondered how Michael was doing. Ginny had cornered him the very next day after hearing about his injuries. He had brushed off her concerns, claiming he simply had a friendly duel that got out of hand, and that it was nothing to worry about. Ginny hadn't really bought the story. She didn't like the fact that Michael may not have been truthful with her... but for now, she wouldn't worry about it. She could interrogate Michael later. She was now officially graduated, and tonight was all about celebration.
X
Arthur watched as his daughter prepared for her first ball.
There was an air of delight in the Burrow as everyone began to dress in their best to celebrate Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. The four had been through more than most adults had, and yet here they were, giddy and excited.
But as he watched Ginny, who's hair was being combed by Molly, he felt his heart grow heavy. He had promised himself, promised Molly, and promised Bill, that he would tell Ginny everything once she graduated.
He sighed sadly, knowing that this night was for his daughter, and that tomorrow, he would have to break her heart.
X
Later that night, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione arrived at the Ministry of Magic ballroom. It had been immaculately decorated with ribbons and banners, all sporting Hogwarts paraphernalia. The students were immediately in the celebrating mood, and there was laughter and dancing throughout the ballroom.
But not Ginny.
She was standing to the side, rocking on her heels impatiently, waiting for Michael's arrival. She was wearing a long, scarlet gown, and her hair was swept up in a chignon. She had been quite pleased with the gown, how comfortably it complimented her figure, and she was even more pleased with her hairstyle. When her mom had first styled it up away from her neck, she initially was going to reject it. When Harry had walked by her room and Molly had asked what he had thought of the style, he had frowned and muttered something that sounded like, "I like it better down." And so, with a nefarious giggle, she had chosen to leave it up in the chignon just to spite him. As she impatiently waited, she almost let out a shriek as a tiny owl zoomed past her, dropping a letter at her feet. Recovering herself, she reached down, and opened the letter that was addressed to her.
Ginny-
I regret to tell you that I will not be coming to the Graduation Ball after all. My family has chosen to have a quiet celebration at home, and then we will be leaving on a long holiday. You're a great girl, and I wish you the best.
Your friend,
Michael
Ginny felt the pang of rejection and humiliation rise up inside her. She could feel the redness filling her face but she didn't care. The stupid git. She crumbled the letter angrily in her hands.
"Great girl my bloody arse!" she hissed through clenched teeth. Her family had taken notice of her reaction, and she saw her parents and Bill walking over to her. Not wanting to talk about it, she shoved the letter into Bill's hand before fleeing to the balcony, needing some fresh air.
Out on the balcony, Ginny willed herself to take deep, cleansing breaths. Michael was a git. But she would not, absolutely would not, let him ruin this night for her. She wiped under her eyes, and smoothed out her dress.
This was her night, she thought, as she took another deep breath, and she intended to celebrate.
She turned around to head back into the ballroom, only to find Harry standing there. He was looking at her intently, the starry night casting shadows on his face.
"Dance with me." he said, holding out a hand to her.
Ginny folded her arms and raised a dubious eyebrow at him. "You hate dancing."
"Ginny," he said, stepping forward and gently grasping her elbow, "Dance with me."
Even without a smile on his face, Ginny thought he looked positively handsome. His green eyes sparkled, and his messy black hair was being gently tousled by the breeze on the balcony. Her insides felt a quiver, and he was gently pulling her towards him by the elbow.
"Alright, Potter," she relented, sounding much calmer than she felt, "but no embarrassing dance moves, or I swear on Merlin's grave, I will pretend I don't know you."
But Harry seemed not to have heard anything after she said 'Alright', because he clasped her hand tightly, and she saw the anticipation in his face. He led her by the hand to the dance floor, where a soft beautiful tune was being played by the live band. Harry turned to her, putting one hand on her waist, and holding out the other with his own, as he gently led them in a slow rhythm. She couldn't seem to look away from him. His face was so serious, so intense, and it was unnerving. Finally, she had to look away, clearing her throat.
"So, I suppose you heard Michael stood me up?"
Harry said nothing but kept leading them in their slow rhythm.
"Is that why you asked me to dance?" she asked.
"I wanted to dance with you," he said, and she felt him pull her just a bit closer, "you look incredible, by the way."
"Even my hair?" she quipped mischievously, and this time he smiled, albeit a small one.
"I love your hair." he said.
For a few moments, words failed them, and they continued to dance. Their bodies had somehow moved closer as they swayed. The top of Ginny's head was occasionally brushing against Harry's chin, and she felt his lips and breath on her hair. His hand still clasped hers, and she felt the pad of his thumb gently stroking her hand. Her heart was fluttering a million miles a minute, and she realized he had lured her back into a confusing haze of heat. When she felt his lips linger on her hair, she stopped dancing. She stepped back and looked up at him, her brown eyes begging for explanation.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she saw a hunger and an urgency within them. He grabbed both of her hands tightly.
"Come with me." he said, and he began pulling her towards one of the exits, his hand gripping hers almost painfully tight.
She didn't resist, but shouted above the loud music, "Where are we going?"
He turned back, "Somewhere we can talk!"
They passed through crowds of students and families celebrating, drinking and dancing, before making their way to a small alcove near the Fountain of Brethren. As soon as they made it to the alcove, Harry rounded on her, his eyes alight with that odd glint again. She quieted her thoughts, feeling she was about to get some answers to the mystery that was Harry Potter.
"Ginny," he said breathily, and he ran his hands up her bare arms, making her shiver, "I've been stupid, I know, it's just, things are so complicated."
Ugh, perhaps she wasn't going to get answers after all.
"Just tell me." she demanded.
Harry shook his head slightly, but he looked determined.
"I'm not wasting anymore time. What's done is done. What has to happen, has to happen... and I don't care how selfish it is, how selfish I'm being, I can't go another damn day. It's so unfair of me, but I just can't. I need to tell you, I need to show you."
Ginny stepped closer.
"Show me what?" she said.
"This." he said, and like a flash of lightening his lips came crashing down on hers. He was kissing her fiercely, holding her tightly, like it was their last moments on earth...
Ginny had stiffened in shock, but as the heat from his lips enveloped her, she began kissing him back. It was soft. It was warm. It was incredible.
He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, and the other was at her waist, pulling at her until she pressed against him. His lips moved against hers and she thought nothing could possibly feel so damn good. She completely surrendered, wrapping both arms around his neck, and reveling in the sensations around her. His lips, his hands, his scent, she was absorbing everything she could.
They broke the kiss in the need for oxygen, both gasping for breath, foreheads touching.
"Ginny," Harry breathed, "I'm completely crazy about you. Completely-" he kissed her cheek, "crazy." he kissed her jaw.
Ginny was struggling to form words, but she pulled back to look at him.
"Why?" she whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I couldn't," he said, looking at her sadly, "I wanted to, so many times."
"Why couldn't you?" she pressed.
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but when he did, they heard a crash come from the Ballroom, followed by a series of screams.
Ginny and Harry exchanged terrified glances, before Harry touched her face with his hands.
"Stay here." he said, before turning and running towards the ballroom, drawing out his wand.
"Oh, not bloody likely!" Ginny shouted after him. She raised her skirt and grabbed her wand, running towards the ballroom. As she saw Harry disappear into the Ballroom, she heard a distant explosion and more screams. Ginny stopped to kick off her heels before continuing to run.
As she reached the entrance to the ballroom, a tall figure in a black cloak stepped out, looking down the hallway where Ginny had been running. Ginny froze, and the figure looked up at her. The figure was wearing a Death Eater mask and was slowly raising a wand towards her.
Ginny set her jaw defiantly and raised her own wand. Before she or the Death Eater could utter a word, there was flash of light as another explosion rocked the Ministry.
Ginny blinked, and everything went black.
X