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What I Do Best | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 14 Summary: Ginny tells Harry a piece of her mind... and her heart. Hitcount: Story Total: 4454 |
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WHAT I DO BEST by: redANDraven_madness Disclaimer: The Harry Potterverse does not belong to me but from Her that demands this disclaimer. You know what? I’m glad I didn’t write Harry Potter, because the story would have sucked and no one would have bothered making and reading fanfics about our bespectacled hero and his world. Anything you recognize isn’t mine. Some lines are borrowed here, word for word as the characters use them in the book. And oh, there’s a song with the same title but I haven’t actually heard it, so I don’t know what it contains. Any similarity is not intended. Don’t sue me! Now get on with it. PLEEEZE REVIEW! What I Do Best A RED BLUR ON THE PITCH! When people say this, they don’t mean the quaffle. That red blur thingy refers to me, or maybe just my Quidditch robe and hair... I’m not quite sure. I please my captain, delight my teammates and disappoint my opponents. Gryffindors cheer loudly but I accept the praises only half-heartedly. They all seem to have forgotten Angelina Johnson. I’ve always looked up to her chasing abilities. She still is the best at it, not me. Never me. And besides, I’ve managed to scrape the Quiddditch Cup twice by playing Seeker. And right under Cho Chang’s nose too. Ha! Too bad Corner’s not there to console her this time. I’m nothing on you, of course. I’m a blur but you’re a streak. I know I’m good (or better than Chang anyway), but compared to you… It is still a bit overwhelming that we won the Cup even without you on both matches though. Even if pretty Hufflepuff Diggory beat you once, you are still the best Seeker Hogwarts has known for many years. And no matter if you don’t manage to win any more Championships in the future, you’ll always be the best Seeking Sorcerer to me. Absolutely brill… er… yeah. So, I’m not best at seeking either. I’m sure you know about my easily triggered Weasley temper. How could you not? I’ve flared up on you at least twice already. Just push the right button and you’d put me on the rage. I can throw a death glare that can almost rival Mum’s, too. ALMOST, being the operative word there. I have never actually succeeded in doing it better. So far I can manage the Die-you-git!-Die! look. While Mum’s look automatically says Wanna-dig-your-own-grave? Somehow I tried this glare on Percy last Christmas and I swear he cowered there for a moment before composing himself again as any ‘important’ person would do. So anyway, I’m nearly there. Nearly, but I can never be as good as Mum. Ah well… I know for a fact, and I accept, that other people are better than me in most ways. The chasing, seeking and death-glaring crowns do not belong to me. I’m not the best student either, we all know that’s Hermione. And I’m not the biggest prat all of us has seen too, ‘coz that’s Ron. After all these titles that I don’t hold, I don’t fret. No sir, not at all. I couldn’t care less. I know there is one thing that I do best. Ah… you are misguided. Yes, I know. You’ve heard of my reputation as the best Bat-Bogey Hex caster around here. Even the greats Gred and Forge tip their toes when walking around me. Don’t want to be on the receiving end of my wand, do they? I don’t take a single crap from anybody, you know. So being cautious around me is good for your health. Of course, who would want to have bat wings flapping all over their faces? But sometimes I’ve got to live up to my reputation, meaning that I eventually have to hex someone —namely Malfoy— sometimes. ::chuckle:: The great bouncing white ferret has had it all coming to him! nyahahahaha… and after what he’s done to bring Dumbledore’s demise, I swear I’m gonna put great wings all over his face that’ll lift him up to Azkaban by themselves. Yeah, I know, wishful thinking. But still... errrgh! King Ferrie is soooo going to pay when I see his pointed, sneering face again! Conveniently for me, nobody does the Bat-Bogey better than I do. So there’s no denying that I am best in that district. But I won’t rest it at that, for there is one more thing I do that far outstrips the best record of Bat-Bogey I’ve ever relinquished on anybody’s unfortunate arse. And it concerns you. I can trace it back to that fateful day... The day of your absence from the match... The same day you had to do the first of so many pointless detentions... That very same day that it happened, when we started this — this thing going on between us — this beautiful, wonderful thing we shared for so short a time. It was all confusing in its beginning. I knew you didn’t probably deserve it, but I felt I had to defend you from Hermione’s gloating nags. Everyone knew it was your job, you were supposed to lead Gryffindor to another victory but you weren’t there, and I couldn’t understand why I wanted so badly to do it for you. I just knew I had to. All throughout the celebration in the common room I was in half a mind to stay, half a mind to leave and search for you. I decided to stay and wait, but you were too long, too long that I thought I’d burst out in frustration. Damned grease-head! Frustration turned to agitation and anxiety. It took you long enough that by the time you finally came, I was already able to control my nerves and muster the courage people say one ought to possess to be in Gryffindor. Another loud cheer erupted as the portrait hole swung open and I could hear Ron yelling. I most expected myself to panic and faint but I didn’t. Instead, knowing what I had to do — what I wanted to do then, I sought your gaze as I ran towards you with a look that I hoped emanated and spoke volumes of my not-so-secret feelings for you. There was never a warning; it started just like that — like magic. It was an unusual feeling. And though I’ve fantasized about it since I was ten, it was nowhere near of what I had imagined or expected it to be. The moment your lips touched mine... oh how I thought I’d die, for my heart stopped beating for what felt like a lifetime. It was the most peculiar and fantastic feeling in the world, trapped between a second and an eternity all the while being held and kissed by you. And thus it all began. The realization of a long-kept yearning. It was as if a conclusion to a well-planned process. Like it was authored by (A/N: JKRowling? hahaha...) an omniscient person. I couldn’t remember, in all my life, being as happy as I was these past few weeks. Like you said, 'it's been like... like something out of someone else's life.' It was — for want of a better word — perfect! Too perfect, actually, just to end up this way. I should have known that it was too good to last forever. Well, I did know... or at least I had this shrewd inkling that everything always led to end this way. I hate to admit this, but I was so stupid! I was foolish enough to actually believe that I could change the course of something that I knew all along was going to happen. 'Well... I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much.' Do you remember me telling you that? And did you not wonder why, when I told you all this, I couldn’t look you in the eye? I’m sorry I had to turn away. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to see your green pools and drown in them again, not when they are so full of emotions. Not when I was about to finally tell you the reason why I like you so. Not when what you just said was a slap in the face — a hard slap across my face. I’d seen it coming since Dumbledore’s death. That night I trained myself to be strong, or so I thought I did. I tried to reason with you, ‘What if I don’t care?’ because I really didn’t, but you threw it away. I never knew until then that such pain existed, such pain that made the fortifications I built around my heart crumble, caused ruin to the stronghold inside me. It was then that my guards have all been let down, and my defeat made me see two truths: That I had allowed myself to be deeply deluded in my own dream in the short time we were together and happy that I hadn’t given the foredooming pain enough thought; and that — this one the most important of all the points I want you to see, I realized that despite the almost unbearable pain and the promise of danger, I couldn’t — wouldn’t — let you go. I knew then that there was a feeling distinguishable from pain burning inside me. A feeling that deviates and goes far beyond the deepest depth of any pain known and unknown to man. A feeling that could save you, I want to save you. It had been done before. I wanted so much to shout and scream at you, and cry my heart out to the world, but that feeling made me loosen my grasp on you and allow you to do ‘some stupid, noble reason.’ Guess I do take a crap from somebody sometimes, huh? If there’s one thing in the world, both Wizarding and non, that I do best, it’s this feeling. LOVE. They can try, but there’s really nothing anybody, even you, can do about it. As much as you are fated to face Voldemort, so am I fated to love you this way. I’m not saying that no one has ever done this more than I do, because she does — she did, so much that her death caused you to live. I just want to clarify that this is where I pour all my mind, heart and magic into. There’s nothing else in the universe that I am so determined and enjoyed so, so much in doing. I’ve checked, double and triple checked within me, but still the deepest part of me echoes that same answer. But what that echo cries does not matter now… For you cannot hear it. Then again, you will not hear of it even if you can. But I will say it anyway, whisper it to the wind, and hope it may be a carrier of my message to you. To let you know... Loving you, Harry, is what I do best. |
| Reviews 14 |
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