Chapter 9 The Pain Behind A Watery Magnifying Glass
“Happy birthday, Ginny…” Harry whispered breathlessly as he mustered all his strength to pull away from her, like a magnet trying to fight off another. His cheeks were blazing red and his tongue was in a knot, struggling with all kinds of conflicting emotions.
The kiss to the forehead by the staircase was reminiscent of the first time Harry kissed Ginny there unexpectedly when they were under the mistletoe two years ago back at Hogwarts, and she ended up storming away in tears because he didn’t kiss her on her lips as she expected. That night, she recalled his lips were indifferent and emotionless as they met her hot eager skin that was filled with blood and passion. But sadly this time, it was the reverse. His summer lips were searing with affection, only to be planted on winter skin that was frozen and numb like icicles. Without realizing it, he had kissed a person whose body had gone hollow, and whose heart had already gone cold.
“Thanks,” Ginny smiled ever so pleasantly, breaking off their gaze as she strolled stoically to the dinner table, leaving him frostily in the dust, seemingly searching for something. Her demeanor was indifferent and casual, as if nothing had happened, as if a lingering ten-second plus kiss by an ex-boyfriend in front of a crowd of people was a regular occurrence.
“That was lovely, Harry,” praised Mrs. Weasley triumphantly as she turned to the twins and whispered sarcastically. “It was worth the pain after all, having to carry the two of you brats in my belly for nine months and giving birth to both of you at the same time!”
“More cake, anyone?” Ginny swallowed hard and grinned rather forcefully to the room, making sure everyone noticed her decorative cheerfulness. Apparently having just spotted what she was searching for, she reached for the knife and then swiped a glass of mango juice towards her. As the glass rolled to the edge of the table, Harry leaped forward and caught it just in time.
“Oh, no!” Ginny squealed in an exaggerated manner, looking at the juice splattered on her dress.
“It’s okay! I’ll clean it up, dear! You go upstairs and change!” Mrs. Weasley suggested.
“Okay, mum!” she replied, flashing her actress smile again as she skipped upstairs, her steps quickening, her curtain of joyful choreography gradually unraveling. “Listen, it’s late anyway. I might as well head to bed. Goodnight all! Thanks for a wonderful birthday!”
Ron could be seen grinning hopefully in the background, believing Harry and his little sister were about to reunite again after what just happened. He had been feeling guilty the entire time because of the doves, and he figured that by having them reunite again, it would absolve him of all guilt and Hermione would stop giving him a hard time.
Meanwhile, Hermione’s eyes were filled with hope, noticing Harry’s gaze faithfully following Ginny’s every step once again and Ginny smiling at him. Everything was finally getting back to the way it was, the way it was meant to be, she drooled childishly.
“Should we talk to Harry and ask him, you know… what he thinks of Gin?” Ron nudged Hermione secretly. “I really want them to get back together. I feel so bad with the dove thing.”
“No. Let things go natural. We don’t want to freak him out or anything. It’s just too complicated with his memory loss and stuff like that. Who knows what he remembers now,” she whispered back as she continued to observe Harry, who was looking up at the staircase, apparently trying to flatten his hair.
“We don’t want to disrupt anything unnecessarily. The human mind is a tricky business…
“But from what I just saw, and what I’m seeing right now, I think it’s only a matter of time before… you know… they are together again,” Hermione giggled as she retrieved something from her blouse pocket.
“What’s that? A jigsaw puzzle?” Ron noticed her hand was gripping something and examined it. “What are you doing with one piece of a puzzle in your__”
“Just making sure that a certain someone will not stand in their way of getting back together, that’s all!” she replied devilishly as she glanced at Oliver, who was helping Mrs. Weasley clean up.
“Uh?”
“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you later!”
On her memorable birthday last year, opening the door to her room would have her discover Harry sitting on her warm bed and beaming with a bottle of champagne. This year, all Ginny could see was a pale blue box, Harry’s unopened gift, sleeping on her empty bed. His gifts to her were always wrapped in blue for some mysterious reason; maybe he was trying to imply her something, she thought to herself grimly. She clutched it closely and slowly made her way to the window. The rain still hadn’t stopped, and the sounds of raindrops were ever so crisp tonight. The water sounds would be all that were left to keep her company tonight and help her relive the birthday celebrations that took place in her room last year. But instead of sipping cold champagne with Harry, she was now choking on her own cold silent tears by herself, while staring out the window, searching for last year’s pair of bright green stars hidden behind the blanket of clouds.
The days of summer were disappearing fast. A couple of letters from Dumbledore to Mrs. Weasley, warning her to not let the children roam outside unnecessarily because of alleged suspicious whispers and activities from Voldemort’s camp, meant that everyone became a prisoner at the Burrow until further notice. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley included Oliver in the mix as well, forgetting that he was an adult. Suffocating under her iron fist, it wasn’t until he promised he would go directly to Hogwarts that she let him out of her sight. Evidently, he was serious with his idea to organize the team flying competition to encourage students to learn about flying, so he reasoned to her that he had to head to the castle before term started to sort out the details. Ginny wanted to go with him; she wanted to stay as far away from Harry as possible but obviously Mrs. Weasley disallowed it.
Fred and George were the exception to the curfews set by their mother; they were always above the law anyway. Nevertheless, they were busier than ever at Diagon Alley with their joke shop. Business was so brisk they were rarely in the house, and leading their way to success was the magic motion detector they employed on Ginny’s birthday that changed the dynamics of her relationship with Harry to another level.
Dumbledore had arranged Tonks and Lupin to escort Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione to Hogwarts tomorrow for security reasons. He even purchased all their schoolbooks and supplies so they didn’t have to visit Diagon Alley unnecessarily. Ron and Hermione took advantage of the final day of summer and sneaked out of the house to spend more time by themselves. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley was not home either, leaving Harry alone with Ginny, perhaps purposely.
For the past few days, Ginny had been trying to shut Harry out, but he just continued to search for her, following her like a shadow no matter where she was at the house. What was worse was she couldn’t send him away rudely. She knew he wanted to give Ron and Hermione space. With Oliver gone and her twin brothers always out of the house, she was the only one he could go to for company. To top it all, it was ultimately her idea to invite him to stay at the Burrow in the first place. She could only blame herself for this suffocating awkwardness.
Oddly, today Ginny managed to prepare lunch, an entire meal of spaghetti meatballs, sandwiches, salad, soup, milkshakes, and dessert, without Harry on her back. The house was unusually quiet, except the occasional banging sounds echoing from Harry’s room.
“Harry, lunch’s ready!” Ginny called from the kitchen. There was no answer.
It wasn’t like she really wanted to have lunch with him. She would gladly eat alone; she had been trying to keep her distance anyway. However, she wanted to see Harry eat and have plenty to eat. She wanted to fatten him up for his sake. That was why she made lunch that could easily feed an entire Quidditch team.
“Maybe he’s busy packing up for tomorrow,” she mumbled to herself annoyingly as she took off her apron and went upstairs.
She noticed his door was slightly ajar, and she could gradually hear the muffled sounds of his sniffing and choking as she approached his doorstep. Wondering what was going on, she quietly pushed the door open to get a clearer view, only to see that he was kneeling on the floor, apparently staring at his empty trunk, with his tired back facing her, his head drooping lowly, and his shoulders heaving continuously. Glancing around disapprovingly, she realized it was a boys’ room but it was absolutely messy to the extreme. He must have emptied all the contents of his trunk and hurled everything across the room, she thought to herself. She was wondering why Harry was staring at the inside of his trunk, sniffing and choking.
As Ginny was about to utter his name, she immediately swallowed it back when she spotted him wiping his face with his arm, sniffing some more. A sense of deep sadness erupted inside her gut as she watched him wearily reach inside the trunk, and retrieved a piece of broken glass out from it. She recognized it immediately. Ron had mentioned it to her. It was the mirror Sirius gave him. With tears streaming out of her eyes, she finally realized what was happening. He was secretly crying about the loss of his godfather. He must have uncovered the mirror that was buried deep inside the trunk while he was packing for tomorrow.
Harry hadn’t ventured inside his trunk this deeply until today, because he knew what was awaiting him, buried deep underneath his belongings. In a thrust of anger last year, he had broken the mirror when he tossed it inside the trunk. He had destroyed something his godfather had given him as a Christmas gift. He could not forgive himself.
Ginny had never felt pain unleashed on her like this before; the anguish was knifing her throughout her body, and she understood the reasons why. Her mother once explained to her that she would rather die than to see her children get hurt, because the pain from helplessly seeing loved ones get hurt was simply unimaginable and twice as excruciating.
Ginny finally felt the impact of her mother’s words. Watching Harry suffer beyond repair was crushingly unbearable. Seeing his agony, Ginny just wanted to storm in and throw her arms around him, to comfort him and love him, erase his sadness, and tell him everything was going to be okay. Her foot was twitching to move.
“Who’s there?” Harry turned around and wiped his eyes, hastily putting his glasses on, but he couldn’t see anyone. He was startled by the creaking sounds of the floor caused by Ginny’s yearning foot.
Instead of going in, Ginny halted herself and found herself quickly darting behind the wall, hiding and trying desperately to silence her flowing tears and the bleak sounds of her voice ringing in her head, reminding her that the impossible knot in her heart still hadn’t been untied.
”But I can’t, Harry… even though I really want to… But I can’t… and I won’t… not anymore… I’m sorry, Harry… I’ve to keep my distance… I can’t let myself fall for you again… because I can’t risk it…
”You’ll hurt me again if I let you in… I still haven’t forgotten the pain you inflicted on me last year…
”I’m sorry, Harry…”
The house was as silent as ever, with only their muffled sobs and muted tears filling the afternoon air. All that was left was Harry, kneeling alone by the trunk in his room, clutching his broken mirror with one hand and covering his cries with the other, and Ginny, leaning alone by the wall in the hallway, clutching her broken heart with one hand and covering her cries with the other.
The Boy Next Door by gossipweaver
Chapter Notes: Seeing his expressions of joy and pain is like experiencing those very emotions herself, except the impact is much more poignant, because as her beloved, his happiness and sadness seem to matter so much more than hers. For her, seeing his tears on his face is like having to stare at sadness with a watery magnifying glass… seeing him hurt just hurts so much more…