and damn.... does that suck. It would make paying off all my school loans a LOT easier!!
Chapter VI: the confrontation
Harry really had no desire for food, Dobby’s dinner having been so satisfying, but he really did need to talk to his house elf. Harry knew that Hermione had said Ginny had locked her out, and since he couldn’t use his wand to open the door (‘damned restriction for underage wizardry,’ he muttered to himself), he would ask Dobby to open it for him.
Harry found Dobby rather quickly (a little TOO quickly, he personally thought), and was halfway up the stairs when he finally realized that his insides seemed to be churning. Harry knocked gently on the door, and heard Ginny’s stony reply:
“Go AWAY, Hermione! Why don’t you go sleep in Harry’s room, since you obviously fancy him, too!”
“Um, Ginny?” Harry asked tentatively, “Can I come in?”
Harry heard something that sounded like a book crashing to the floor. “Look Potter. Why don’t you go and talk to your new girlfriend? Perhaps you didn’t get enough snogging time in the library after dinner? I locked the door, so you can’t magic your way in, so why don’t you just go away?” Ginny snapped furiously.
Harry gulped, and tried to mentally force his heart back down into his chest where it belonged, instead of his throat where it had taken residence ever since he knocked on the door. “Look, Ginny,” he said gently, “I have Dobby with me, and if you won’t willingly open the door, then I’ll get him to open it for me. It’s your choice, but you can’t avoid me forever, and I want to explain everything to you.”
Harry heard Ginny sigh, and stomp over to the door. He smiled at Dobby, and told him he could go. “Thanks for coming Dobby. I really appreciate it!”
“Dobby is only happy to serve you, Harry Potter sir!” the elf squeaked, as he scampered off. “Good luck with Miss Ginny, sir!”.
Harry swallowed, and heard the deadbolt being unfastened. ‘Luck?’ he thought. ‘I’m going to need a miracle!’.
Ginny opened the door a crack, and stuck her head out. “Look Harry, I don’t want to hear it, okay? I’m just Ron’s stupid little sister, and I mean nothing to you. I know it and I don’t care anymore. Can’t you just leave me alo-“
Harry pushing the door open stopped her in her tracks. “Ginny, please, Hermione is in my room with Ron, and I’m almost positive that they’re snogging by now, so if you would at least give me ten minutes to explain myself, then I might be able to guarantee myself not walking back in on something that would embarrass us all.”
Ginny huffed, pointed him to a chair in the corner, and then stalked off to sit on her bed, not facing him. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but lost his voice at the vision that was presented before him. The flickering candlelight on the walls seemed to bounce off of Ginny’s hair, making it glow. Harry couldn’t help but notice that her nightdress seemed to hug her curves, and that her eyes seemed to be so deep that he could drown in her gaze. That is, he could if she would even look at him.
Harry shook his head, and tried to come back to his senses.
“Ginny, I really don’t know where to begin. I mean, I… I” Not only did he not know where to begin, even if he had, he knew there was no way he’d be able to actually get his mouth to form the words.
Harry didn’t know what to do, and so he did the only thing he could think of. He went to her desk, and began to search for the letters he had written in reply to whom he had at one time (and now he realized that it was so foolish of him) thought had been Hermione.
Ginny turned, and cried out when she saw what Harry was doing. “HEY! That’s my personal stuff, stay away from there!”
“Yeah- but I wrote them to you, so obviously I know what they say anyway, so what’s the big deal? Look Ginny,” he said, cutting off her stuttered attempts to reply, “Did you really LOOK at these letters?” He pulled the ones Ginny had written out of his dressing gown pocket, and opened them to show her.
“Your letters. Look at this one from Hermione. I thought the whole time that they were from her. They were signed in the same way she’s ended her letters to me for the past 5 years. I didn’t think anyone but Hermione would think to bewitch the letters to look as if they were written on Muggle computer. Obviously if Hermione has been writing to me for the past 5 years, I would recognize her writing. That’s why I thought she would disguise it. Why would you need to disguise your writing? You’ve never written me anything. Well, except for that valentine in my second year, about my eyes being ‘green as a fresh pickled toad’ or something like that, but…”
“YOU KNEW IT WAS ME? Oh, God!” Ginny cried. “How mortifying!”
“The way you wrote about not having any girl friends in your year-“ Harry continued, knowing that if he stopped for long, he would never start again. “Neither does Hermione. How you wrote in the first letter that you ‘knew I liked you only as a friend, and you liked me the same way’. Can’t you see that I would think the letters were from ‘Mione?
“She is always trying to get me to talk about Sirius and everything else. Trying to get me to open up. How you wrote that you’ve been keeping secrets. I thought that it was Hermione saying that she’s been keeping it secret for years that she fancied me. All the time, I thought she fancied Ron (which she DOES, by the way!) and then all of a sudden, I get these mysterious letters? Having a lot more in common than I thought?
“I thought you were talking about keeping secrets about problems and things with other boys and not having a boyfriend, just like I could never get a girl to like me, and if I DID, I could never pluck up the courage to TALK to her.
"But I know now. It was about Voldemort. And you’re right. You’re the only person he’s gone to such extreme lengths to possess and torture.”
Ginny gasped, taking in all of these things that Harry Potter had been telling her.
“B, b, but,” she stammered, “then who were you talking about then? That you ‘fancy someone else’. If it was supposed to be Hermione’s best friend in another year, but… Hermione’s best friends are you and Ron. She doesn’t have a girl best friend. I mean, I know I think of her as MY best friend, but I never thought she would see me as her best friend. I’m just ‘Ron’s kid sister that she took pity on because my brothers were always so horrid to me’.
"Harry, just tell me who she is- tell me who you want, so I can go on with my life and forget you.”
Ginny was crying. Harry didn’t know what to do. He hated seeing her like this. He didn’t understand how SHE couldn’t understand that if the letters were originally intended for Hermione, that Ginny couldn’t see that she WAS, in fact, the ‘best friend’ he was talking about.
Harry didn't really know how to explain it, so he thought the best way to really go about it would be the obvious- the truth.
“Ginny, who would Hermione go to and ask for help about makeup and all that other girly junk to impress a boy? She would obviously go to her best friend. And she went to YOU. Don’t you see that you’re her best friend? She can’t talk to Ron and me about that stuff. Come off it, Gin!”
Ginny smiled slightly, and wiped at her eyes. “Well, that’s nice then. Hermione’s my best friend. That’s great, but now I REALLY need to apologize for being such a git to her. Good to know. Well, also nice to know that you still fancy someone else. Do you mind going now? I’ll just go on back to normal life- life where there’s no hope for the famous Harry Potter to ever notice me.”
Harry stood there, unable to speak. After all this, how could she not realize that he fancied her? If he didn’t love her, he would swear she was being completely thick.
Harry stopped himself- had he just thought to himself that he LOVED Ginny Weasley? ‘You bet you did!’ said a small voice in his head.
And Harry knew there was no point in denying it. He loved Ginny Weasley. Seeing her lying on the floor in the Department of Mysteries, unable to stand on her broken ankle. Cursing the Death Eater that had done it to her into oblivion.
Harry was beside himself with lack of knowing what to do next. Ginny seemed to him like a feminine form of the golden snitch- small, wicked fast and damn near impossible to catch. But Ginny was a far bigger prize than a mere 150 points and the likelihood of winning a quidditch match. To catch a girl like her...
But then again, he WAS one of the best seeker’s Hogwarts had ever seen, and if for one second he could just…
In the next instant, Harry did something that was both very brave, and something that earlier today he would have thought completely impossible. He reached forward, and grabbed Ginny by the hand.
“Harry, please! Can’t you just leave me be?” she sobbed. “You love someone else, do you really have to stand here and torture me with it? Why don't you just TELL me who she is, so I can pacify myself by hating HER for being so god damned lucky!”
“Gin, you’ve got it all wrong. You want me to tell you who I love? Fine. I’ll tell you, if you seem to think that it will make you feel better.”
Harry guided Ginny over to the bed, sat her down, and then sank into the feathery mattress next to her. He sighed. He knew that he needed to make her see that it was really HER that he loved, but how?
She was openly crying now, and her thin shoulders were shaking. How Harry longed to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. The candles flickered, and once again bounced the light off her hair. And suddenly Harry knew exactly what to say, and began to speak in between Ginny’s sobs.
“Ginny, the girl I love. Well, she’s like no other. There’s no one like her in the world- Wizarding and Muggle alike. When the light hits her hair,
(He boldly stretched out a hand, and pushed hers out of her eyes)
“It bounces back and sends a thousand shimmers into the night, making the stars more beautiful than they were before. When her robes fall upon her skin,
(He caressed her arm where her nightdress stopped, and could feel her shivering, and then melting into his touch)
“They seem to mold right to her body. No girl could ever make a Hogwarts robe look like she does. As if she was wearing the most expensive silk dress robes bought at Madam Malkin’s. When I look into her eyes,”
(Feeling braver, he used the tips of his fingers to turn her chin toward him)
“Ginny,” he whispered, barely able to believe that he could finally say to her what he had been feeling for so long, and barely believing the God could make the beautiful face that he now had the pleasure to look upon,
“when I look into her eyes, I can see the man that I want to be. And that man is nothing without her. Gin, that man is nothing, I am nothing, without YOU.”
And Harry pulled her chin closer towards his own. She was so close; he could see the candlelight reflecting off of her still drying tears. The very air that he breathed was hers, and he heard her whisper
“Oh, Harry. You really mean that, don’t you?”
He smiled. “Ginny, you are the only one I want. You’re the only one for me.” And he pulled her close. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Ginny’s perfect smile, and then he melted into her kiss.
Her lips were soft, and they played gently back into his own, and when their tongues touched for the first time, Harry knew that this was the woman he wanted now and forever. He wanted her; her and no other.
As Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny’s small, but beautifully formed body and held her close, his mind seemed to fall blank. Everything was bliss when he had Ginny in his arms. She fit so perfectly into his embrace, and he seemed to feel complete, for the first time, with her at his side.
The holes that had been gouged in his heart by Lord Voldemort: the ones belonging to his parents and Sirius, seemed to be filling right back up, and overflowing with love from this red haired woman in his arms. He knew, that as long as he had Ginny, and her love, that he could survive anything that Voldemort threw at him.
There would always be that blissful feeling of complete happiness and lack of worry when he held her. And after all, who needs a pensieve; when you’ve got the woman you love to share every worry, hope, fear, fantasy and dream with?