“Good luck, Harry!� murmured the excited, wide-eyed redhead as the Hogwarts Express slowly chugged into motion.

Good luck. They were the first words she had ever said to him, and at the time she thought them terrible. What a thing to say to the Boy-Who-Lived, who triumphed over the Dark Lord! What a thing to say... “good luck!�

But she had meant it – the whole two words. Even at the ignorant and tender age of ten, Ginny had known that Harry was somebody special – a force to be reckoned with. Everybody knew it. What no one seemed to realize, though, was that surviving amongst very jealous, awestruck, less famous wizards his own age was going to require a great deal of luck.

And what luck it was, thought she, when Harry Potter had befriended her brother, of all people. And such luck when Hermione had befriended her. The very boy who had saved the Wizarding world, befriending her brother!

Oh, but what a fool she was. She would run from the room when he would greet her, she would avoid his vivid green eyes at all costs. Maybe if she had been prudent this wouldn’t have happened. She would never have spent three years agonizing over him, and a fourth trying to forget him. Oh, if only she had stayed!

Oh, if only her neglect for the here-and-now was not so ridiculous and blinding! Perhaps in that day she would have seen her true love, the Harry Potter that she loved. The man behind the lightning bolt.

The first time that she had been really stupid had been on Christmas Eve, during the Yule Ball, when she had left early under the pretense of fatigue. Everyone thought that she was tired of Neville, tired of wincing when he stepped on her delicate toes, but she used it as a cover for the real reason. If she was honest with herself, the reason was to escape Harry and Parvati together, to escape them, regardless of their open contempt for one another.

That contempt did not matter to Ginny, for all that she wanted even then was to be with Harry, to collapse into his arms, and to know that he was there. She knew the steady beating of his heart – she knew the twinkling green of his eyes – as green as a fresh-pickled toad.

The only other person who was yet awake she met outside of her Common Room. Michael Corner had been on his way back the bathroom. If only she had kept going, rather than letting him stop her. If only! She did not love him, but he was the first boy she had ever kissed.

But why? She had no reason to do it. There was no obvious attraction between the two, no chemistry, no sparks. Why then had she done it? It was the beginning of that quest to rid herself of the lost love who had haunted her for four years of her life.

After that awkward period in which neither would admit the existence of the other, in which they denied each other’s existence, Ginny found that she did have feelings for Michael, and the next year they began their relationship, Ginny in denial of what she truly felt.

Shortly thereafter, though, Ginny realized that it was not out of love for Michael that she had done it, but to free herself from Harry’s unwitting clasp. No more would she pine for the Boy-Who-Lived!

And thus began the year-long saga for something whose profit was solely selfish. She had never done anything like it in her life. Now every waking moment, every breath she drew was devoted to a singular purpose – forgetting Harry Potter.

She wanted to forget the one who had unknowingly saved the world in which she lived. She wanted to forget the one who had saved her very life. She wanted to forget the one who had so many times thought of her, but had never given it notice. What was this strange and foreign emotion called love? Why had it taken hold of her and whipped her into thinking that she no longer wanted to be around him?

She spent a summer agonizing over him, dreading the moment when they would next see one another, but her fears were in vain. She had lost all emotion regarding him, her lost love, except that he was her brother’s best friend. She felt lost and undone.

But the love that she had for Michael was not genuine, and Ginny’s heart was all in knots. Harry – her one, her only, her savior – he alone could fill the gap that lay inside her heart, screaming to be filled. Ginny developed a habit, one which she regretted ever contemplating. She lost the little girl in awe of Harry Potter, and created a new girl who did everything in her power to forget him.

It was then that Ginevra Molly Weasley realized that the male population did not consist of Harry Potter and Michael Corner alone.

What Dean Had Said


Ginny Weasley lay on her bed. It was quiet in the Weasley home, mostly because Fred and George were away at their shop in Diagon Alley for its Grand Opening. For the most part, however, it was because Ginny had nothing to say. Ginny would have gone if she could, but her mother’s certainty of an impending cold had cooped her up in her room for that morning, so Ginny lay at home, clutching a photograph. One of Dean Thomas, her current boyfriend.

“You know I love you, Gin,� he had said, staring into her eyes and taking a swig of butterbeer.

“I do,� Ginny had cooed back, sipping her own. “I love you too.�

It was a lie. Dean had caught her off-guard and had said those three big words so casually that Ginny had no time to think about what she was saying. It happened too frequently for her own liking, and it scared her to think about how far she would go if her senses were not with her. It was all in an attempt, though, to keep Harry out of her mind.

Again, she knew it was a lie. It had been over a year since she had lost all feelings for him. Now she used him only as an excuse.

She thrust Dean’s photograph to the floor, angry with him for evoking such mad thoughts in her. However angry she was, it did not stop his face materializing before her for the second time that day.

“You know, Ginny,� he murmured reflectively, “I’ve done a lot of things I regret to get you, but I don’t regret having you. If I can hold onto you for any time at all, I’ll be happy. You’re a prize worth winning.�

At the time it had seemed like such romantic dialogue, and Ginny had been flattered, but she knew now what it really meant, and it scared her half to death. Did men really think of her that way? One thing was for sure, she thought – Dean wouldn’t have her in his trophy case much longer!

She stormed angrily from her room.

Ginny was not generally an angry sort of girl: In truth she was not unlike Ron, her brother, but lately she had felt not so much used as she felt that she was the user. She did not like the truth that seemed so plain – why had she ever stopped liking Harry? Whatever the reason was, she had needed something to cover it up, and what Dean had said exposed her more than she knew.

She slammed the door behind her with full intention of writing to Dean later and breaking up. If Ginny had thought about it, she would have wondered why she wanted so badly to dispose of him, and she is perhaps very lucky that she did not.

For if she had, if she had looked beneath the surface, Ginny would have found that her nagging notions were not incorrect.

Ginny was not an abnormal girl in any way. She had pined for, like every other girl, a hopeless love. She had had an interest in him for many years. However, there was something strangely intriguing about the unconventional redhead. Something irresistible. Ginny did not know it, but it was no one’s fault but her own that they thought of her this way. Flirtatious as she had become, Ginny had gotten an underground reputation for drawing young men to herself. Unaware of what she had done, Ginny had brought this upon herself.

“Gin, sweetheart, you look tired,� simpered Mrs. Weasley, as Ginny entered the kitchen, deep in though. “Have something to eat.�

Ginny sat down at the kitchen table as her mother bustled about to feed her daughter. Tired, thought Ginny? No. It couldn’t have been more opposite – Ginny was running solely on adrenaline. Perhaps the effort of thinking then the terror of the truth had made her so, but Ginny was wired, unable to stop moving.

Hermione was the first to burst through the door, closely followed Ron, who had been holding it open for her. Funny, giggled Ginny. After all these years they still don’t admit they like each other. Suddenly , Ginny braced herself the inevitability of what came next.

Harry walked through the door: Why did I brace myself, she thought? I have no felling left for him. But a small part of her thought within the recesses of her mind that she had lied.

Startled by this sudden and unexpected revelation, Ginny almost jumped up from the table. Quickly, she checked herself. The Ginny who doesn’t love her brother’s best friend stays, she reminded herself.

“Gin!� squealed Hermione ecstatically, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I haven’t seen you in ages!�

“I know!� said Ginny, excitedly. Ginny released Hermione. It took a moment, however, for Ginny to register the change that the summer had wrought in her friend.

“Mione,� Ginny whispered, awestruck, “Your hair! It’s – it’s – it’s straight.�

It was true; Hermione’s bushy, brown hair had become a Sleekeasy’s success story. It was long and shiny – and only the very ends curled. A nice change from the bushy mass that had thrived on her head only months before.

Hermione smiled, revealing straight white teeth. Oh, thought Ginny, what a different girl she was from the one who had befriended her years ago. Yet she was the same person, only how beautiful inside and out.

Hermione was not the only one to whom the summer had brought changes. She hadn’t noticed that Ron had grown more than a couple of inches, but Harry, it seemed, had finally begun to sprout. His height no longer paled in comparison to that of his friend; he had begun to lengthen and thicken ...

Ginny shook her head. Get a grip, she thought. Don’t do this.

“Hello, Ginny,� said a deep voice behind her.

Ginny’s heart fluttered and stopped. Harry stood behind her, waiting for some sort of positive reaction, but Ginny’s cognitive processes seemed to stop. She knew what to do when this happened ... nothing would work.

Slowly, Ginny extended her hand. She shook Harry’s very stiffly. “Hello,� she said, her voice cheery. “Good to see you again!� She smiled, praying that she wouldn’t go red. Harry seemed satisfied, but disappointed ... why?

Only Ginny felt how truly startled he really was.

Only Hermione saw how startled Ginny was.

Factually, Ron and Hermione had been scheming for many years to make this happen, but Harry’s solitary depression and Ginny’s extroversion had discouraged them greatly. This new revelation, however, gave them both great heart. They smiled at each other and blushed crimson in unison, just as Ginny let go of Harry’s hand.

“So good to see you,� she said, her eyes shining (more from dread than delight).

“Ginny, could you go water the shrubs?� Mrs. Weasley called distractedly. “Ron will be out in a moment – you two can de-gnome the garden.�

“We’ll help too, Mrs. Weasley,� called Hermione softly, volunteering Harry and herself.

“Thank you, dear,� Mrs. Weasley said, bustling around the kitchen.

Together the four of them headed outside to the Weasley’s garden. It was beautiful, an afternoon in late August, and Ginny could not fathom why she was not enjoying it. Ron and Hermione, she noticed, still could not look at one another. She found it amusing that this was their sixth year and they still would not admit anything.

Even the amusement and competition that de-gnoming a garden usually brought did not uplift Ginny today. An unbelievable load of guilt had settled on Ginny, and she couldn’t figure out why. There was ntohing wrong with having a boyfriend, she reasoned. If that was the truth, then why did she feel so guilty?

Even so, she thought hours later as she brushed her hair before bed, what on earth did Harry have to with all this? On the table next to her bed was her own face from her first day at Hogwarts. Her wide green eyes blinked fearfully, yet an eager smile was plastered to her face.

The face had not changed much, though Ginny. True; the girlish fame had given way to a womanly figure, the red tangle had been tamed, but the girl’s face was the same. Much like Hermione – the appearance had changed, but the girl inside was the same.

But was she? Ginny Weasley looked closer. Innocence shone out of the eyes of the child, and Ginny gasped and dropped the frame.

“Ginny, dear?� said her mother, poking her head through the door. “Are you all right?�

“Yes,� Ginny replied hastily, and Mrs. Weasley bustled out and went her own way, leaving Ginny breathless.

Nothing in the picture had changed, but Ginny saw in the photograph an innocent girl, a girl that she hardly knew. There was no remnant of the blamelss ten-year-old left in Ginevra Molly Weasley. Nothing.

At that moment, Ginny resolved to find that girl. That girl would not do the things she had done.

Knock, knock.

Hermione peeked into the door and swung it open. “Gin?�

“Your bed’s over there,� Ginny growled, indicating a cot in the corner opposite her. She slumped angrily into bed, too confused and disappointed to giggle with Hermione, as she usually did, well past midnight.

After all, with the day’s events behind her, Ginny could not forget those awful words that had scared her so. She would never forget what Dean had said.

A.N.--Sorry I haven't updated in so long, but school would not make room for it. Ten million papers to write. Sorry, once again!
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Ginny, whose mother-predicted cold was just coming to an end, stood at King’ Cross station with her brother Ron, her friend Hermione, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Will these Muggles ever stop watching?� Ron hissed to Harry. “We’ll never get through to the platform!�

Ginny, again feeling reckless, picked up her trunk. It was still a bit too heavy for her so Harry, feeling chivalrous, stepped in to help.

“Thanks, Harry,� Ginny said breathless and a bit red in the face.

“Sure,� he said, grinning. “Ready?�

Ginny nodded, and together they ran through the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

“Thanks again, Harry,� Ginny gasped, turning to face him, and was surprised at how close they were. They stood chest-to-chest in front of the barrier, blinking in shock (and was that delight?).


“Sure,� breathed Harry. Ginny subconsciously noted how he smelled and how warm he was. Her thoughts were cut short, however, by a shrill, piercing, agitated yell.

“Ginny!�

Ginny tore her eyes away from the vivid green that had drawn her in and took a step back. Before she could fully recover, Dean’s hands were on her waist and her arms were around his neck.

“Hi,� he said, his brown eyes shining. His tight dark curls framed his face. “It’s been too long.�

Ginny didn’t say anything; she simply nodded. Dean kissed her, and to her it felt as if he had been rehearsing it all summer. His tongue did not know her mouth: He had never kissed her before, but he knew what he was there to do. It was finally Ginny who broke the kiss.

“I’m so glad to see you again,� she cooed, kissing him on the cheek. He pulled her head around and began his routine once more. They were mid-kiss before Ginny realized that Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were now on the Wizarding side of the barrier, and Ron was purpling with anger. The other two were doing an admirable job of not staring, Ginny noticed.

Ginny broke away. “I’ve got to get my things,� she said, brushing a curl behind his ear and tactfully freeing herself of him. “See you in a minute.�

When Ginny turned around, Ron grabbed her shoulder and shood her violently. “He was – he was kissing you,� he stated plainly, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,� Ginny said, reciprocally, still dazed from the suddenness of the kiss. Ron, confused for a moment about whether he should glare at his sister of Dean, grabbed his trunk and Ginny’s and hoisted them onto the train.

“I’ll never look at him the same way again,� Ginny heard Ron mutter to Harry a few second later. “He was kissing my sister ...�

Ginny smiled to herself and helped Hermione with her trunk. It was good to be back in school, away from the distraction that Harry’s constant presence provided. Dean loved her, and that was enough.

It was a wonderful thing, Ginny thought, to be back inside the great hall. It was a blissful paradise of tumults and distractions, in which no room was left for thought. No roomwas left for that which attracted all of her attention, for her attention was directed elsewhere at all times.

“Ginny!�

The redhead whirled around, as she heard her name called for the second time that day, and found herself fact to face with Michael Corner.

“Hello, Michael,� she said warily. “How are you?�

“I’m fine.� He brushed off Ginny’s greeting. “Listen, Gin,� he said in hushed tones, leaning closer, “I broke up with Cho over the summer. I realized that I love you.�

Ginny said nothing. Hadn’t he been the one who started it? “So, waddaya say, Gin? Wanna pick it up where we left off?�

Ginny just looked at him. She liked him. Her senses were not with her – she saw no reason why she shouldn’t. Ginny grinned at him.

“Meet me in five minutes,� she whispered. “Just like old times.� She sat down at Gryffindor table next to Ron, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’re you so happy about?� Ron grouched as she swung into her seat.

“Nothing,� she replied gaily. “Just so glad to be back.�

When she finally looked up from her breakfast, Ginny saw Dean across the table. She knew what she was about to do was wrong, but she wanted it so badly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this way, and she loved. And as said before, her senses were not with her.

AS Ginny made her way to the restricted section of the library, she began to feel more and more nervous, but the more nervous she became, the more expectant she was. When she arrived in the very back of the library, Michael was there, waiting for her. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but when she saw him she threw herself at him with the same hungry kisses they had shared after the Yule Ball, late that night.

When the time came for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw to go their separate way, Ginny felt defiled. She was still a virgin, but the closeness of what had done scared her. She had cheated on Dean, and he would never knew. Ginny arrived late to her first class of the year, sweaty and out of breath.

“Where have you been?� hissed a Hufflepuff girl from across the green house. “Class began ten minutes ago!�

“New green house,� Ginny said, biting her lips. She knew they were still red and swollen from the forbidden encounter. The Hufflepuff smirked and tended to her flower.

Ginny knew she didn’t love Michael – he had betrayed her too many times. It was then that another thought occured to her – what if Dean had been right all those months ago? Michael’s actions had seemed genuine enough, but something small had seemed insincere. He had wanted her body, not her personality – he didn’t want Ginny.


As Ginny looked down though, there was nothing spectacular about her body. She was thin and body, her chest was definitely not-so-impressive. Why would he want her body?

Because you’re hard-to-handle, she thought. Because he couldn’t hold onto you. Anger toward Michael flared up inside Ginny. Never again would she see him! Again, though, she shouldn’t have seem him in the first place, but all the same. Then she remembered what Dean had said.

“I’ve done a lot of things I regret to get you, but I don’t regret having you ...�

If she was that irresistible, then Michael would do anything to achieve his ends. And if Ginny’s senses left her, she hated to think what might happen.

Ginny left the greenhouse feeling more defiled than ever, and it all came back to the forbidden encounter.

A.N. - Sorry, short update, but I gave you two in the same day! You can't complain.
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A Pair of Blue Eyes —

“Michael, stop,� she said, days later. Michael drew back his face. It had been inches away from hers, but he now drew back, wearing a puzzled expression.

“I haven’t broken up with Dean yet,� she said, backing away from him. “You don’t love me anyway.�

“Don’t love you?� he said, his face regaining its puzzled look. “I’m� — he searched for the right word — “intoxicated with you. Didn’t that mean anything to you?�

“No, Michael,� she said flatly. “I wanted it because I’m tired of Dean, not because I love you.�

The words that escaped her mouth horrified her.

“That’s enough,� she said. “I have to go.�

Amid the constant distraction that hustle and bustle of Hogwarts provided, Ginny had forgotten about her oath. She had vowed solemnly never to do anything dishonest ever again, but it was impossible, for she had never attempted anything like it before.

In the face of such an insurmountable burden, however, Ginny found her thoughts focusing on one man rather than many — Harry Potter.

In her heart of hearts, Ginny knew she was doing herself a disservice by thinking of him. After all, he did not love her.

But reminiscence gives way to memory, and that which is remember for but a moment remains with us always. A feeling came to Ginny — at the time it was subtle, anyone would have deemed it discomfort. Now — when magnified and brought in sharper view — was it love?

“Gin,� said a voice behind her. “Are you coming to Hogsmeade on Saturday? I want to know where to meet you.�

Dean had caught her off guard by slipping his hand so tenderly around her waist, tearing her brutally from her reverie.

“I’ll be there,� she said lovingly. “We’ll meet at the Three Broomsticks.� She turned around and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.�

Satisfied, Dean turned around and went to his next class. Ginny was pleased with herself at having gotten rid of him so quickly, and turned to find herself face to face with Luna Lovegood.

“Hello, Luna,� Ginny said warily.

“Well done,� said Luna, her eyes crossed.

“What?� inquired Ginny, nonplussed, but Luna had a rare twinkle in her eye.

“You don’t like him anymore,� Luna pointed out, blatantly disregarding any social training she had ever received.

Ginny’s mouth fell open — had she been that obvious?

“I kissed him,� she said indignantly, lowering her voice. “How can you say I don’t like him? I like him very much.�

“That wouldn’t stop you.� Luna was watching her thumb very closely. “You’d kiss him anyway. Anything for a good show.�

Ginny walked to Care of Magical Creatures without a word. She hadn’t lied. She did like him, but by no means did she love him. But had she been that obvious? No one else had been there when had — encountered — Michael. Nobody else knew. She had paid special attention to Dean to cover any loose ends. Why was Luna so convinced that she would betray her boyfriend?

Because she had.

But that was ridiculous, thought Ginny. No one else knew — she would proclaim it to all the nations!

What Ginny didn’t know was that she and Michael hadn’t been alone — they had not been the only ones. A pair of blue eyes had been watching — Luna’s eyes.

A/N-Thanks to all you readers and reviewers! I've decided ... I need at least two more reviews before I update again. I'm not asking for much; you can do it!
Everyone who has already reviewed for me gets a special mention next update!
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Luna knew things, Ginny resolved in the Common Room later that night. She was quiet, she listened. Even if she did know something, Luna was not one to spread rumors.

She picked up a quill. She would worry about Luna later. For now, she would have to wait. She began to load her quill, but an occurrence across the room caught her eye.

Parvati Patil sat across from Harry. Ginny froze. Harry did not look unhappy, not did he look repulsed. He bore that pleased look that Ginny knew so well, which surprised initially, but did not so much as time wore on. She did not remember how long she watched them, but to her it seemed like an eternity, watching the man she loved pleased by another —

For the second time that day, Ginny held herself in check. Love? she thought skeptically. Unlikely. He was her brother’s best friend — she couldn’t betray Dean.

Dean! she thought. A nuisance! Always in the way!

Couldn’t?

Angry with herself, she rose quickly and left the Common Room. In her trunk lay that framed picture of innocence that she had once been.

“Why?� she said softly. “Why won’t you let me grow up? What can’t I move on?�

The innocent green eyes in the picture stared back at her, convicting her of her sin.

“I love Dean!� she shouted, throwing the picture at the floor, where it shattered. “I love him! How can I love Harry? I don’t!�

She stood silent for a moment, breathing heavily, intoxicated with her success. Success was not so sweet, though, when you cannot let go of the old and bring in the new. Ginny wept for the child.

A timid knock came on the door. “Ginny?� Hermione poked her head in the door. “Are you alright?�

“Oh, Hermione,� Ginny said hopelessly. “What am I going to do? I’m not that girl anymore; I don’t know how to be.�

“Don’t worry, Gin,� Hermione soothed her, sitting down beside her on the bed. “You don’t have to be.�

“I want to be!� Ginny wailed. “I don’t love Dean anymore – Luna was right!�

“We all knew it,� Hermione confessed, blushing. “You used to be so� — Hermione searched her extensive vocabulary — “perfect. You were perfect for each other. Now instead of that, you’re accommodating.�

“But he loves me,� Ginny whimpered.

“He’ll get over it.� Hermione brown eyes were full of wisdom. “Trust me. He’ll hate you for a while, but he’ll get over it.�

Ginny smiled through tearstained eyes.

“In the meantime,� Hermione said, mischievously, “Dean was looking for you.� Her look plainly mourned for the loss of such a close friend, and she exited the room, right on cue.

It was about midnight. It was Friday night, and nothing was preventing the students from going to bed early, as they all had done – in droves. In fact, Ginny and Dean were the only two left in the Common Room when she reached the end of the girls’ staircase.

When she looked at him, Ginny’s senses left her.

She floated over to him. He turned around and kissed her on the cheek, but Ginny had other ideas. She closed her eyes.

“Sssshhhh ...� she said. “Do you love me?�

Dean looked startled. “Yes — yes,� he stammered. “I do.�

Ginny kissed him — long, hard, and hungry. Before this tale is told I must say that Ginny cannot be blamed for her actions, for her senses were not with her, and she knew not what she did. A strange girl had taken over Ginny’s body; one so unlike the innocent child in the photograph. Her hands slid over him. She did not know him.

Dean was severely shaken. When she had kissed him, he had kissed her back, but he barely knew the girl that had taken over Ginny. This was the girl that they had all told him about. The one who lost her mind in the heat of the moment.

Ginny pushed him onto the couch.

It was then that Dean’s senses left him. He lay there and let her do it.

They both were intense. Dean was kissing her back. Harry! Harry! Help her!

Suddenly, Ginny stopped. Only two buttons were undone at the top of Dean’s shirt. For the second time since tern had begun, Ginny felt defiled. Not only was she defiled, but embarassed beyond belief, for Harry stood at the bottom of the staircase.


He had only been there for a few second, but he had seen enough. Ginny, he thought, what have you done?

Ginny saw him and burst into tears. She climbed off of Dean and ran up the dormitory stairs, blinded by them.

Harry looked at Dean, astonished. He didn’t know much about girls, but Ginny did not look like she loved Dean: her actions were that of a girl who was ashamed of what she had done.

“I’m sorry, mate,� he said to Dean, embarrassed.

“It’s all right,� he said, blinking. “We needed someone to get us back on track.� He paused for a moment. “Damn, she’s a good kisser.� Dean smiled deviously. Harry was indignant — how dare he speak of Ginny that way? But before he lost his temper completely, Harry followed Ginny’s example and dashed up the staircase before Dean could yell at him.

A/N- I said I'd wait for two more reviews, but I'll be nice. Plus, I want to be finished with this one. Thanks to the 41 people who have read this all the way through chapter five.
A/N- I own nothing.
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Eternally —

At breakfast the next morning, there were titters among the Gryffindors. Dean had told Seamus about what happen, who told Lavender, who told just about everyone else. Ron alone remain clueless, thanks to Harry’s efforts, and kept asking what was so funny. Ginny and Dean sat at opposite ends of the table, too ashamed to even look at one another.

The windows in Hogsmeade were decorated with Jack-o-lanterns, and witches were dressed in black. Ginny, though she had promised to go with Dean, sat alone at her table inside the Three Broomsticks, listening to Madam Rosmerta click about in her glittering heels.

She was so ashamed. Why had her senses left her? Why? Because I’m everybody’s girl, she thought. Because I would do anything to achieve my ends. I would have done the same thing to Seamus, Neville, Michael (she swallowed) — anybody, it just happened to be Dean.

There was no longer doubt in Ginny’s mind — she loved Harry. That thought would haunt her for the rest of her days. He would have stopped her in that situation, he wouldn’t have let her embarrass herself. A few tears sprung up in her eyes. No matter, though, she couldn’t change. She was too far down.

As Ginny made her way down to Zonko’s, she had no intention of speaking with anyone. She had no intention of looking up from her shoes. She had no intention of even pretending to exist, but fate, it seemed, had a different idea.

Ginny sat outside the Shrieking Shack, throwing pebbles again the walls and windows. No one was around. The was a word to describe Ginny’s actions — scandalous. If her mother ever found out what a fool her daughter had made of herself, then Mrs. Weasley’s wrath would reach a point yet unexplored by Wizardkind.

“Hi,� said a voice. The voice sat down beside her. “Are you all right?�

Ginny did not look up from her shoes — she hadn’t the will to. “I’ll be fine,� she mumbled.

“Gin,� said the voice tenderly. Ginny looked up. Harry sat next to her, his vivid green eyes looking into her own green ones.

“Hey, Harry.� Ginny looked away, embarrassed. Why was he here?

“Are you all right?� he asked again. Oh, it was good to hear his voice. Tears revisited Ginny Weasley.

“Oh, Harry,� she sobbed, “I don’t know what I was doing. Everything happened so fast. It was all my fault.� She rested her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t love him, so I cheated. I didn’t love Michael either.�

“I know,� Harry said sheepishly. Ginny raised her head. “Luna knows things,� he amended apologetically. “I didn’t ask.�

“I know,� she said. “That’s not the sort of thing you would do. You’re different than the rest.� She stopped, horrified at what had escaped her lips.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the last pinks and oranges fade from the sky. The moon rose from its abode in the mountains, shedding its silvery light on them. Ginny looked at Harry. His eyes were like two vivid pinpricks of hope in the darkening night.

“Harry,� she murmured, flames dancing in her eyes.

“No, Ginny,� he said, taking her hand in his. “No. You have some things to clear up with Dean first and things to apologize for. I won’t tell Ron. You don’t need to worry.�

Ginny could have died. Instead, she wept silently into his shoulder for half an hour. Harry, her love, her first and only love, valued her reputation, his friend’s happiness, above his own desire. It was that chivalrous attitude, it was that polite young man that she had fallen in love with all those year ago.

The first stars came out and brought to Ginny an almighty sense of satisfaction. Under the stars, Ginny had been set free. Free from all her reckless thoughts. Free from all that guilt that she had harbored these many years. Free, but bound to Harry eternally.

Thanks to lalaprincess, HermyG, MissFredWeasley, and kaykayagain for reviewing for me ...
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Friend —

“Dean?� asked Ginny tentatively, wringing her hands. Dean’s tight, dark curls seemed plastered to his head. “Can I talk to you for a moment?�

Dean look embarrassed, but smiled and nodded. “Anything, Gin,� he said, his eyes shining, which did not help Ginny complete the errand she was on. He looked so happy to her — she didn’t want to him. She refused to think it was all for Harry’s sake, for if she thought it, even Harry’s warm touch could not break this disease that they called vixen.

“Dean,� she said. “Do you love me?�

“Yes,� he replied, a devilish grin coming to his face.

“Do you really love me?�

Her words made him think. Did he really love her, or did he love the woman that she no longer was. Ginny had changed: He knew it was true. She no longer was that naughty girl who had kissed him a few weeks before. What had happened to his Ginny?

Dean looked at her, honesty in his eyes. “I did,� he said, “but even then, I don’t know. You’ve changed, Gin. You’re different from the girl that you were, but this new girl isn’t half bad.�

He started toward her, but Ginny kept him away.

“There’s something else I have to tell you.� Dean’s pleased look became one of concern. Ginny looked down at her feet. “Michael and I – Michael Corner – there was something ... something — going on — between us near the beginning of the year.�

Smoke poured from Dean’s nostrils.

“I’m sorry,� she said, refusing to look at him.

“I can’t believe this,� he said. He took her hand in his. “You said you were done with him.�

“I am,� she said “but I don’t love you anymore.� She looked up. “Dean, I’m sorry, but I used you as a distraction. I regret it. I needed — I wanted to keep someone else off my mind.�

Dean was silent for a moment.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?� he sighed.

Ginny’s eyes widened. How had he known? Though, she supposed, she was that obvious. After all, he had been the one she was kissing when Harry walked in on them.

“Yes,� she admitted. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t know what else to say.�

Neither did Dean, evidently. He just looked at his shoes, praying that he was dreaming. Finally, he looked up at the girl standing before him, resolved in his misery.

“It’s all right, Gin,� he said, smiling. “I knew I could never hold onto you. You like drifting, one could say. It’s a habit of sorts. Go to him. You won’t be there for long.�

Steam gushed out of Ginny’s ears. She knew he was right, but hearing it aloud was unbeatable.

“No!� she shouted. “No! I won’t, I won’t go to him! I don’t need him to survive!�

Dean was astonished.

“We’re through!� she shrieked. She hated the sound of it, but it was all she could think of to say.

She turned and stormed in the other direction. The habit was broken — she was finished — she didn’t need him anymore.

Just one thing.

Perhaps they had stood in silence longer than she thought. Ginny knew that she was far past curfew. No one was in the Common Room, so she tumbled into bed.

Unsettling dreams woke Harry before the remainder of his Dormitory. They were frequent now that Voldemort had returned, and he knew that Ron would only be irritated if he should wake him. Ron’s snores stripped all hope of going back to sleep from Harry, and Dean’s angry grunts unsettled him further. Sighing and rolling out of bed, he reached for his T-shirt and staggered downstairs.

He found his resting place in front of the fire and stared into it. He did not see Ginny across the room, watching him, soaking up the image which lay before her. She wanted him so badly — she wanted to go to him. Without thinking, she did.

There is something — dare I say it — magical about going to the one you love. There is something special, wonderful, and all around good when the one you love is near, and even more so when you are quite certain that the one who you love loves you back. It is a strange and mystical feeling — one which hit Ginny hard as she collapsed into the chair beside him, staring likewise into the fire that seemed to have enveloped her friend.

Friend — how she loved to know it! She loved him, but not because of any trivial matter! She knew that he would be there for her, and that alone gave her a reason to rejoice! Harry, her love, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who loved her so!

Her open joy was stifled, though, by the look on his face.
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Mini-cliffhanger there for you. Thanks for reading. Review, please.

Always —

His expression was not one of gladness for companionship, not one of love, not one of hope, but despair reigned in the vivid green of his eyes. Ginny’s happy bubble quickly deflated at such a sight.

“Harry ...� she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s the matter?�

He did not turn to look at her. “Nothing,� he said huskily, shifting a little in his seat.

Ginny was silent. Friend — she did not know what to do for him other than be there. She missed Sirius as much as he did — true; she had not known him as long, but she had cared for him as deeply as Harry had. Without knowing quite what to say, Ginny’s lips separated and formed words.

“You’re not to blame, Harry,� she whispered, placing her hand on his. “Sirius gave his life to save you, because he knew that was most important.�

“It doesn’t matter!� He shouted, rattling the windows. “I wouldn’t have needed saving if I listened to Hermione! But no ... I had to play the hero ... I put Sirius in danger, Ron, Hermione, most of the DA! I put the Wizarding world in danger because I had to play the hero ...�

Ginny shut her eyes and grasped Harry’s hand. “It wasn’t your fault.� She moved to the couch to sit beside him. “You couldn’t know that from reality. It doesn’t matter.�

“Sirius is dead because I couldn’t tell that from reality,� Harry said coldly. “It was from Voldemort, true; he fed it to me.� He paused. “But if I can’t read into what he’s thinking, who can?�

Ginny’s look turned from one of concern to one of confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about?� she posed. This was ridiculous. He was only a kid.

Harry looked at his knees. “There was a prophecy made about me,� he mumbled. “Either I have to die or Voldemort does.� He paused. “I must either murder or be murdered.�

Ginny couldn’t speak. Murder? Such heavy talk, but he was her friend — she could trust him.

“No . . . � she murmured. “You can’t.�

Harry swallowed. “I have to.�

Tears danced in Ginny’s eyes. Harry, dead? Murdered, even worse . . . what was she supposed to say? Here she was, realizing slowly that she loved him, and what he was telling her was engraved on the innermost parts of his soul.


“I’m scared, Gin,� he said, looking into the fire. Ginny’s throat hurt so much that she dared not speak, but she could not leave him there.

“I know,� she choked, tears evident in her tone. “I’ll be here for you — always.� A single tear tolled down her cheek, but she could not brush it away.

Her mind was numb. Harry looked up, and when he did their eyes locked — green on green.

How she loved him.

“Ginny,� he said under his breath, softly and clearly.

“I’ll be here always,� she murmured. “It’s a promise you can trust.�

He drew her into his arms. She could smell his presence, feel the heat of his body. She loved him . . . He was not a distraction, not a temptation. He was hers.

They sat there for a moment, soaking up each other’s presence, taking in the thing that neither would say. Tears streamed down Ginny’s face. How? she thought. How had she let go of him for so long when he was clearly the one?

Harry stirred and held her at arms’ length.

“I put you in danger, Gin,� he said, his voice shaking from the sobs that had racked his adolescent frame. “I can’t live with that.�

“Harry,� she said, “there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. You know that. If you had died, I would have died with you. I’ll be here for you always.�

“Always?� he said skeptically, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a hard thing to promise.�

“I’d die for you, Harry Potter.� They were very close. “When you die, I will die with you. You can trust me for that, at least.�

Harry’s eyes were more than vivid: They shone with inexpressible joy. His eyes were red and puffy, as were Ginny’s from crying, but she loved him with every fiber of her being.

“I love you.� The words were wonderful. “I love you, Harry, man of my dreams!�

Harry took her chin in his hand so her nose touched his. A shiver ran up Ginny’s spine. She was hollow with expectation as if she had never kissed a man before.

She hadn’t — they had always been boys, and she had been a girl. This was the man who had broken her habit, the man who had brought out the woman in her.

“Stay by me forever?� he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Ginny nodded. “Until death do us part.�

Harry stared appraisingly into her eyes, piercing through to her soul. He paused for a moment.

“I’ve always loved you.�

Ginny drew breath and was swept away — swept away by a kiss from the man that she loved. It was not hungry or rehearsed as so many others had been. She kissed him as if she had never been kissed before — it was tender and sweet and soft, because the two were in love, in love with each other. His lips were soft and warm. I love you with all of my being! The habit was broken; the man was hers, and the night was young.

I will be with you always.

Always by your side.

Always near you.

Always.