Chapter 5 Decorative Tears
“Ginny, are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock you off like that!” asked Harry frantically as he finally released her waist but he was still hovering next to her rather closely. Trying to catch his breath, he quickly cleaned his glasses and eyes with his sleeve so he could peer at her more clearly, as if he wanted to make sure she was truly unharmed, because when he caught a glimpse of her during their descent before she turned her head away, he swore he noticed tears under her eyes, which were glistering colorfully when the morning sunlight graced her face.
It was a stylish and timeless descent to the ground, with the two of them floating flawlessly in the breezy cool sunlight, with her in his arms. If only their hearts were linked like they used to be, because incidentally, both just wanted to fly forever.
“I’m fine… thanks…” she answered shakily, locking her soaked downcast eyes to the ground as she distanced herself away from the group.
Harry suddenly reached for her hair but he startled her so much she quickly darted backwards.
“I’m sorry… there were pumpkin seeds in your hair… I saw some… I just wanted to brush them off…” he muttered nervously.
“Fred, why did you have to pound that Bludger like that? I thought it was only a friendly game!” asked Harry disapprovingly, his veins twitching in his neck. In his head, something was clearly bothering Ginny. He had forgotten he was the one who took the direct hit to the head. Taking his anger out on Fred, all he was worrying about was whether he hurt Ginny when he rammed into her in the air. He was blaming himself for making her cry.
“Harry, why did you do that for? You’re supposed to be on our team, not Oliver’s!” Ron complained angrily.
“Now now, don’t take it out on Harry just because our little Ginny scored on you!” George taunted.
“Yeah! Amazing move you have! Excellent flying!” Oliver patted her back impressively and turned to Harry. “You too!”
“Yeah! Amazing move you have! Excellent goal keeping! Letting a first time Chaser score!” Fred imitated Oliver’s tone and howled at Ron, who was fuming and gaping at Harry, his ego badly bruised.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to the house… and clean up!” Ginny interrupted their heated exchange, turned away, and choked hoarsely. She only had some pumpkin seeds and juice in her hair and face. Normally, getting down and dirty during Quidditch matches would not bother her at all, but this time she had no choice but run because she didn’t want the others to see her tears, which were now streaming all over her face. As she stormed back to the house, she refrained from wiping her eyes with her arms. Instead she let them flow freely, fearing they would suspect she was crying.
“Mum!” Ginny was caught off guard when she opened the door to catch Mrs. Weasley standing in front of her, gazing at her deeply with her glazing eyes. Ginny quickly hid her face and frantically wiped her tears.
“Ginny, dear__” Mrs. Weasley whimpered, also brushing her eyes with her apron.
“Just… some dust… in my eyes… very windy out there… I’m all right, mum.”
“No, you’re not. I saw what happened… and… I can see Harry… and you… I think he… he still cares about you… and you care about him too…
“So… why don’t you… try to… work things out with him?”
Ginny forced herself to shake her head and choked defiantly.
“You want me to talk to__”
“NO!” Ginny cried, trying to sound as assertive as possible. “Mum, I’ve moved on. I’ve really moved on…”
“No, you haven’t. You still love him. Or else you wouldn’t be crying like this… And his jacket will not be in your closet…”
Ginny stared at her disapprovingly.
“I didn’t mean to go in it… but I… recognize it’s his, and I see…the way you have it so carefully placed behind the closet door…
“Please Ginny… You never told me why you broke up with him. Harry is perfect with you… What did he do that was so awful__”
“Mum, I told you already! He did nothing wrong! We’re just… not meant to be… We are… incompatible! But it’s not… his fault!”
“Clearly his being here is upsetting you. You want me to… ask him… to leave?”
“NO! I’m fine! Really! Please mum! He needs people around him… people to help… him, care about him, love… him…especially now…”
“But… what about you? What about… your needs, your feelings? You need people… to care about you too…”
“I’M FINE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Ginny shrieked madly.
Mrs. Weasley wanted to hug her but before she was able to do so, Ginny had already stormed upstairs. Her stomach was twisting with gnawing pain because she realized there was nothing she could do to alleviate her daughter’s heartache.
Meanwhile, back in the fields, the six of them were still debating as to what happened. Harry was as confused as ever, his stomach flipping at the sight of Ginny’s torment and her dashing away. Despite her insisting she was unharmed, he was certain he had hurt her during the collision, because he could sense she was upset. He felt like he wanted to stop her and examine her to make sure she was truly unhurt, even though she punched and elbowed him earlier, for which he had seemingly forgotten and forgiven her because she could do no wrong. His mind was now flooded with her images of pain, the sensations of her red hair and the feeling of his arm around her, sailing together in the skies. The feelings were hazy but oddly familiar, and he wanted to put his arm around her again, to comfort her for some reason.
“Harry, you didn’t answer my question!” Ron hissed.
“Uh?” he asked distractingly as he finally unglued his eyes from the skies. He had just been staring blankly at the spot where he crashed into Ginny; he had forgotten what the argument they were having was about.
“Harry’s right,” said Hermione, her fiery eyes traveled contemptuously from Ron to Fred.
“Right about what?” asked Harry.
“It’s just a friendly game! Fred, you didn’t have to hit it so hard!”
“Hit what?”
“What do you know about Quidditch?” snapped Ron.
“You people made me referee, and in my opinion, the Bludger should not be hit that hard at someone. Look at him! Look at the impact! The mess on his face! What if it were a real Bludger!”
Everyone laughed except Ron, who was still upset at Hermione. It was unclear whether they were laughing at Harry’s disheveled appearance or Hermione’s feeble grasp of the game.
“As I’ve said before, this Quidditch thing adds nothing but tension between people! I don’t want to be participant to such a violent game anymore,” she grabbed Harry’s arm. “Come on. Let’s head inside so you’ll clean up.”
“Wait!” Harry hurried to gather up Ginny’s abandoned broom as Hermione dragged him towards the house. But instead of pulling him to the door, she accompanied him to the backend.
“Harry, you didn’t answer Ron’s question,” Hermione whispered curiously.
“What was his question again?”
“Why did you block that Bludger that was aiming for Ginny?” she glared hopefully into his eyes.
“Erm… I dunno… It… just happened. One second I saw it blasting towards her… the next second my Firebolt was racing to intercept. I dunno…”
“But you’re not supposed to help a player from the opposite team. Is there something you’re not telling me… about Ginny?”
“I SAID I DON’T KNOW… AARGH!!” Harry roared and winced in pain, holding his chest.
“What’s wrong? Your scar?”
“Hermione, my scar’s not here!” he pointed at his chest and sighed sarcastically.
“WAIT… Didn’t Ginny elbow you and punch you?”
“You saw all that and you didn’t call foul?” he complained begrudgingly, now starting to massage the bruise on his face. Hermione blushed and shrugged her shoulders innocently.
“It just happened so fast, Harry… Oh, hi Ginny!” Hermione called out excitedly when she spotted her observing them from her bedroom window.
Harry immediately turned his head up and locked his eyes with hers.
“That was a good move you made against Ron! Thank you for putting him in his place for me!” yelled Hermione.
“I have your broom here, Ginny,” he was hoisting it with his Firebolt. “I’m sorry I bumped into you like that.”
“Thank goodness Harry blocked the Bludger, Ginny! Otherwise you’ll be the one covered in pumpkin juice,” Hermione winked at her teasingly.
“Thanks Harry,” Ginny muttered grimly, slowly breaking off their gaze and pulling away from the window.
“No… problem…” he called out warmly. But before he could finish, she had already disappeared. Still gazing at her window, he was wondering why he wasn’t even mad at her for punching and elbowing him earlier.
As Harry’s eyes were still fixated at the window, watching the curtains slowly closing, covering his view of her room, Hermione studied him carefully, seemingly in deep thought.
“Perhaps there’s hope after all…” she smiled breathlessly.
“Uh?”
“Erm… nothing! I’m gonna head back to the fields… you know… to torment Ron some more… You just relax your mind and let… whatever come to you come to you. Let things flow naturally…
“Ginny must still be in her room. Why don’t you… umm… give her back the broom?” Hermione smirked and quickly dashed away, as if she wanted to leave him alone, so she wouldn’t disturb his thoughts.
Ginny was leaning by the wall next to the window, still gripping at the curtains that were now closed. It was the first time she caught his bright green eyes like this since he arrived at the Burrow. For some reason, she could sense his eyes were looking at her differently compared to the days in school. This time she felt a familiar sense of warmth and endearment coming from him. She was convinced he felt something for her. Perhaps he did say he loved her last night when he wished her goodnight and that she wasn’t imagining things after all.
Admittedly, there was something enchanting about seeing a boy from the bedroom window, especially when it was Harry with a broomstick. The memory of his promise that he would always take her with him anywhere, anytime, with his Firebolt resurfaced again.
She wanted to check his eyes again to confirm her suspicions, but she was pretty sure he was back in the house by now. He must be toweling himself or something. But her curiosity was overwhelming her; she could not just stand here and not find out, so she slowly and carefully lifted the curtains just enough for her to take a peek again. Unfortunately, she was right. He had disappeared. He was no longer lingering for her by the window.
Feeling disappointed, she let go of the curtains. She was angry with herself for acting silly, for getting her hopes up again for him, when she should be letting him go.
“AARGH… I’m supposed to move on!” she shook her head violently, trying to stuff some sense back into her.
She hated him very much because he had made her cry again. Even though she told everyone she didn’t hate him, she took her anger out on him during the match, taking every opportunity to knock him senseless. She wanted to provoke him, really wanted him to hit back, so she would have a reason to hurt him badly. But it didn’t work. He was always a gentleman. Oliver was right.
To make matters worse, he came to her aid despite her punching him, elbowing him, and hating him so deeply she was blinded by her raging tears and couldn’t detect the Bludger. Perhaps it wasn’t due to her tears; perhaps she couldn’t see the Bludger because she was too tired. After all, she couldn’t sleep last night because she was constantly thinking about him and what he was dreaming about, while he was sleeping next door to her. She wondered whether she would ever be a part of his dreams again. But there she was just now, flying with him on his Firebolt as he held her tightly by the waist, exactly like he had promised, and exactly like she envisioned every night in her dreams.
She rubbed her abdomen yearningly, savoring the feeling of being held by him, his arms around her again. It was wonderful…
“NO…NO…NO!” she grilled herself again.
“AARGH! Why do my knees always melt every time I see him with a broomstick? Why does he always have to have a broomstick with him? And now he’s got two!” Ginny screeched in frustration.
“I better get back out before they suspect anything,” she quickly checked her reflection and wiped away all her tears.
“UURGH! DAMN IT! I’ve to find Harry to get my bloody broomstick back!”
Seething with rage, she muttered to herself repeatedly as she opened her door, “Stop thinking about Harry’s broomstick… move on… forget Ha__”
She gasped and recoiled her steps when she almost collided with someone as she marched out. Her body readied itself to cascade at the sight of him. Apparently, he was startled too. He had just taken a shower, and droplets of warm water from his wet hair unwittingly sprinkled on her cheeks when he whipped back. He was not wearing his glasses and was standing merely inches away from her, holding a broomstick. It was her broomstick. She was frustrated but mesmerized.
The Boy Next Door by gossipweaver
Chapter Notes: The fool of her to let him in again… she can’t hide them anymore, naked secrets for him to see, all those decorative dazzles and sparkling pearls swimming underneath her eyes, but he still mistakes them for something else.