|
Foolish | ||||||
|
Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 713 Summary: Can love survive, no matter what someone does to destroy it? Hitcount: Story Total: 154206; Chapter Total: 6929 Awards: View Trophy Room |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Author’s Note: Told you this one was going up fast! This is my favorite chapter so far. I think it has a really nice mix of everything in it. Thanks as always to my otherworldly betas for all the work they put into helping me make this presentable. And a special thanks to all the readers who are bringing tears to my eyes sometimes with the amount of love the show this story. This one’s for you guys! Standing in her room at the Green Swallow that evening, her hair pulled half back and hanging loosely, Ginny couldn’t shake the odd feeling that there was something different about her appearance as she prepared for the Feast of Elders. It nagged at the back of her mind, a fly she couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t until her hair was combed out and her makeup was done and she was buttoning the front of her canary yellow sundress that she noticed what the change was. She stared into the mirror, amazed when she saw how tightly the fabric stretched across her heretofore small bust. “Oh,” she said to her reflection, turning to catch the different angles, a sly smile stretching across her face. “Well…alright then.” She gave her stomach a small pat. “I don’t suppose you’ll hear me saying this much for the next seven months or so but, from the bottom of Mummy’s heart, thank you.” Happy as she was with her more ample assets, they would take getting used to. She was grateful that there was a slight chill to the air so she could throw on a light cloak before walking downstairs, exiting the inn into the slowly fading sunlight. Crowds of smiling, laughing people were making their way east and Ginny followed them, her eyes and ears catching everything: the tiny magical fireworks being thrown in the air; the strange but beautiful song several people were singing as others accompanied them on instruments that would appear as fiddles or mouth organs but were producing sounds more akin to beating drums or wind chimes; the colorful streamers people waved in the air that disintegrated into thin air before reappearing in a different shape and size. So caught up was she in the festive atmosphere that she almost didn’t notice when she reached the village square. She let out a gasp of wonder. It was at least ten times the Great Hall of Hogwarts but instead of being confined by walls, it breathed out into the evening sky, surrounding itself by small brick and stone shops and streets amidst the background of an immense forest. Flimsy white strings that shone as brightly as the sun were strung from rooftop to rooftop, creating a luminous canopy with patches of sky pushing through for the hundreds of people, young and old, underneath it greeting one another and accepting food and drink being handed out. But that wasn’t what captured Ginny’s attention: An enormous statue stood in the center of the cobblestone street but it was like nothing she had ever seen: Hundreds upon hundreds of gigantic multicolored metal rings hovered in the night sky, the bottommost ring only a hair’s breadth over the tip of a tiny, nearly translucent pyramid sitting high atop a raised platform. The rings surrounded each other as they slowly rotated, intersecting seamlessly with one another and were so iridescent that they shimmered and fluttered in the dying light. No two were alike, yet they were all similar and none looked out of place. They all belonged there. It was so breathtaking that Ginny kept getting nudged as people moved past her as she continued to stare in wonder. She might have stayed there all night had it not been for a deep voice speaking gently in her ear. “It is miraculous, is it not?” Ginny turned around and found a tall broad shouldered man dressed all in black, with gold eyes and powder white hair pulled back into a ponytail smiling down at her. “I have lived here my whole life, every single day, but the awe for the majesty of it never goes away. On my bad days, I expect it to sometimes. But it never fails me.” Ginny nodded, turning back. “I’ve never seen anything equal to it,” she agreed. “What is it exactly?” “It has no official name,” the middle-aged man explained, his eyes gazing over her curiously as if he were studying for test she was the answer to. “It was forged centuries ago and the wizard who designed it left it no title. I suppose there are some things in this universe too vast and great to be limited to a name. Unfortunately, that is not an issue for me.” He stuck out his hand. “I am Sapien Stellner. And you are?” She took his hand, a little uneasy, and replied, “Ginny Weasley. It’s nice to meet you.” The man’s smile faltered for only a fraction of second before it returned in full force. “And how are you enjoying your visit to our fair village, Ms. Weasley?” “How did you know?” “I am the head of the Council of Hastom, the governing body of all who live here. Visitor Lovegood was most insistent that we allow you to come here in her place. She was quite forceful in her conviction, which is something that is worth remembering.” He gently let go of her hand and guided her further into the crowded square. “You have not yet answered my question: Are you enjoying your visit here?” Ginny thought for a moment of how her day here had gone so far. “Enjoying is a rather strong word. I think the honest answer is I’m still trying to take it all in.” Sapien nodded, waving hello to some of the street vendors whose carts lined every inch of the available sidewalk. “That is the response that most feel at first. And your honesty is a blessing; for it is something we place a high value on here. Hopefully by the end of your stay, you will have experienced all the joy that Hastom has to offer. Visitor Lovegood indicated you would be here for the entire month of July, yes?” Ginny shrugged and wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. “I-I’m not sure yet. My life is not very settled at the moment,” she admitted with a hint of shame. She looked Sapien straight in the eye, gripped with a need to make him understand. “But I think being here will be good for me. It’ll help me.” The man looked her over once more, his expression solemn. “Perhaps your presence in Hastom will be good for more than just yourself,” he said cryptically, melting back slowly into the crowd. Ginny frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” “Citizen Nell Nixon and her husband are over there, near the stand selling Pearapple confections,” he said loudly over the increasing noise, pointing behind her. “I hope you have a pleasant evening, Ms. Weasley.” “How did you know I was meeting them here?” she called out, trying to follow the mysterious man as the buoyant crowd threatened to swallow him. “You will find in your time here that there is nothing I do not or will not know.” He bowed to her as he disappeared into a sea of strangers. Ginny searched for him for a few moments, but he had vanished. That was bizarre, she thought anxiously, making her way to where he had said Nell and Bart would be. And for Hastom, that’s saying something. A man who knows everything? A Seer, like Trelawney? But even she didn’t know everything. No one knows everything. It’s impossible. “Nothing is impossible,” she heard herself whisper, remembering what both Nell had told her today as well as a conversation in a library many years ago. Before she could dwell on her thoughts, a happy voice called out to her, “Ginny! Over here!” Nell and Bart were standing next to a vendor’s cart, each holding a long stick of a gooey green and orange swirled candy. Bart bent to steal a bite of Nell’s and she swatted him playfully in the stomach. He changed his trajectory and nuzzled her neck instead. With a dull pang of both loss and relief, she noticed there was no one nearby with black hair. Ginny let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as she made her way to them. Nell clapped lightly when Ginny was in front of them. “You came! We were getting worried you decided to stay in.” “Well if I did, I think I would be the only one in the entire village. This is amazing!” “Yeah and we’re not even on the good part yet,” Bart chimed in, his smile small but his eyes less hostile towards her than they had been when they first met. “Wait until after the speech.” “What speech?” “The head of the Council, Sapien-” “Stellner,” Ginny finished automatically. The pair blinked at her. “I…we met early. When I first arrived in the square.” “Oh. Well,” Nell piped in as her husband wrapped his arms around her waist, “anyways, he gives a big speech about the founding of Hastom and what our elders hoped for the village when they created it. After that,” she flung her hands in the air, bits of her sweet flying about, “we dance.” “Some of us dance,” Bart corrected, checking his hair for sticky residue, “while some of us spin and fail our arms and legs about every which way while others run for their lives.” Nell huffed indignantly, elbowing him. “There is nothing wrong with the way I dance.” “Honey, it’s not dancing. It’s a seizure to music.” She rolled her eyes at Ginny. “He thinks that just because he took dance lessons when he was teenager that it makes him an authority on the subject.” “You took lessons?” Ginny asked him, grinning madly. She had never met a man who admitted to that. “For how long?” Bart’s cheeks reddened but he chuckled as if he were in on the joke. “Not that long,” he tried to say with confidence. “Five years,” Nell immediately said, barely able to hold in her laughter. Ginny joined her and the two of them spent the next fifteen minutes or so ribbing poor Bart while the moon rose above them. He took it well at first but when a few bystanders around them began voicing their opinions on the matter, he felt the need to defend himself. “It taught balance, strength, and flexibility! Check this out.” He tossed the remains of his snack in a bin and urged the small crowd to back away. Standing straight up, he lifted his left leg until it was perpendicular to his right without wobbling. Slowly he hopped in a circle, his leg never lowering. “Okay? Tell me that you are not impressed by that!” he finally declared with passion as he stopped and put his hands on his hips. The two women were nearly hunched over in laughter as the others gave him an encouraging round of applause until they were all distracted by a glowing flash of light overhead that fizzled out after a few seconds. “It’s the speech,” Nell said in a hushed voice to Ginny as everyone around them turned to face the towering statue. A tall podium had materialized in front of it and all sound around them faded to whispers. Some people hoisted small children onto their shoulders to see better, but everyone stood at attention. The air crackled with anticipation. Slowly, as Ginny craned her neck up to see, she saw Sapien Stellner glide up the tall steps of the podium and stand before the entire village of Hastom, raising his wand to his throat before he began to speak in a booming voice, “Welcome my dear friends,” he said, rapt silence answering him. “It is a blessing on us all that we are able to gather here tonight as one community, united not necessarily by shared bloodlines or history, but by one common idea: that we stand stronger together as whole than as hundreds of one. “It was an idea that first took root in the minds among our ancestors over a thousand years ago. Wizards have not always been guided by reason in their endeavors. That is true of any creature in this world. But there was a time in our history when wars were fought over the slightest of offenses and countless lives destroyed over the petty grudges of a few fools. All magical beings suffered greatly. This bloodshed lasted for generations, until a way for peace was found. “There were three, in the beginning. Three families who wished their offspring a better life than they had been given by their own parents. They were the O’Mirrens,” a gentle smattering of applause rose from the crowd, “the Hawthorns,” more applause, “and the Stellners.” He smiled fondly at the applause to his family name. “They were all exceptionally powerful witches and wizards but they realized no matter how strong a front they presented, it was futile. Even if they defeated their foes, any peace they created had a limit, a life of its own if you will. It might outlive them and their children; perhaps even the children of their grandchildren’s children. But it was not permanent. As long as they lived in a world where Dark magic could enter a man’s heart or mind, war was always imminent. So what were they to do?” “Make a brand new world!” the cheerful voice of a little girl replied back at top volume. The crowd around her hooted and laughed raucously. “Well, young Madorsa. You seem to know this story very well. Would you like to take over for me this year?” Sapien asked with a grin, nodding down to where the little girl had shouted. He blew her a kiss as the village laughter gently petered out before he continued. “My charming friend is right though: the only way to ensure lasting peace throughout the generations was to create a world where evil itself did not exist. Where truth and honesty prevailed above all and where goodness could flourish without end. There was one flaw in this idea, though: a wizard is not a god. He cannot create a planet and a life force to support it out of his own will or skill. That could never be. But a village,” Sapien smiled slowly, his eyes roaming the crowd knowingly, “that could be managed. And so many lifetimes ago on this day, in a quiet spot away from all life around them, all manner of privacy and concealing Charms protecting them, the Elders created their new home. They named it Hastom. “For this village to work, the Elders realized they needed total secrecy. If anyone who wanted to could set foot in it, they could bring whatever they wanted into it as well. They also knew they needed likeminded people to continue their vision. So once every six months or so, an Elder left the safety of Hastom to venture into the world they had left behind. If they were fortunate to find a soul they deemed worthy, they brought them back here to be judged by the others. If the purity and sincerity of the person’s heart was unchallenged, they were allowed to remain here. Over time, new families were born knowing only this wonderful place and the peace it offered. “Centuries have passed but the goal of Hastom remains the same: to be a haven for those who the world outside tries so very hard to destroy and to help one another better ourselves each day. We have been joined by many others from beyond our borders, regardless of nationality, magical ability, or wealth. We have also lost others to the allure of life beyond Hastom, a life of curiosity and unpredictability. They leave in peace and do us a great service by spreading absurd tales of our village so only the truly worthy even have the nerve to come here. We have lost others still to the life after this one, but we do not mourn them. We celebrate their memory every day, for life itself is something to be celebrated. There are disturbing stories brought to us from the outside; stories of those who choose to desecrate life’s meaning by trying to extend their own mortality. But we who embrace the magic of Light know the truth: that every day, every moment, every breath we are given should be celebrated. For we are given the gift of only a short time on this Earth and to squander or abuse it is a crime. “So, dear ones, I ask only this of you tonight: Be safe, be joyful, and most of all be surrounded by life.” With a gesture of salute, he raised his wand to the sky; a brilliant array of colors lit the night as the village of Hastom roared with glee, none louder than Ginny herself as she wiped a few stray tears from her eyes. Strains of thumping music could be heard wafting over the crowd as people started congregating around a white dance floor that had sprung around the perimeter of the statue. Nell linked her arms through Bart and Ginny’s, tugging them both forward with a devilish grin on her face. “Shall we?” “We shall,” Ginny replied with a bounce, afraid the happiness would bubble out of her onto the street. She doubted anyone would mind if it did. Not waiting for Bart’s answer, the trio plunged themselves into the mass or twirling, stomping bodies. They could have danced for moments or hours; Ginny wasn’t sure nor did she care. She drank sweet nectar trustingly from other’s goblets being passed about when she was thirsty and swallowed mouthfuls of succulent beef and bread when she was hungry in between spins around the floor. When her feet ached, she simply followed the lead of others and flung her shoes off to the side. She talked and listened and sang loudly with more people than she could count as she spun from partner to partner. Bart’s assessment of his wife proved to be true; whatever Nell was doing could not be described as dancing, but the joy was so pure on her face, Ginny didn’t have the heart to take the mickey out of her. It was fun. More fun than Ginny had had in years. Her past wasn’t her past, her present had no meaning, and her future was limitless as she swayed in time to the music. Eventually, the crowd started to thin. Vendors shut down their carts and the lights overhead dimmed slightly. Families with small children and elderly couples began making their way home (past the privacy ward erected so they could have a peaceful night’s sleep) and the music began to slow. Couples held each other close and the energy of the night shifted. The evening started to catch up with Ginny and she gave a great yawn as she made her way to sit down on a bench. It was then that she saw him. It’s been so long. I shouldn’t still know what his walk looks like, she thought, sighing as she watched Harry, head hunched down with his back to her, walk down a street all by himself. She couldn’t remember spotting him from the dance floor at any point. All the enjoyment she had taken from the evening lessened dramatically when she realized that her presence had probably kept him at a distance from his friends and the celebration of his adopted home. The enthusiasm she had for the Feast of Elders slowly faded but the true meaning of it, and Hastom, stayed in her mind. It would not be easy, but she knew what she had to do. This is the only life I’ll ever have. If I want Harry to be in it again, I have to try and make this right. Straightening her shoulders, she set off to follow him but a hand on her shoulder held her back. Bart gently tugged her around to face him. “Where’s Nell?” she asked before he could speak. Bart nodded back behind him. His wife was kneeling on the ground next to an old man who was clutching his knee in pain. “Mr. Calloway thinks he’s about sixty years younger than he actually is when he starts dancing,” Bart explained casually. “Right.” An uncomfortable silence hatched between them before Bart cleared his throat and spoke again. “Are you going to go talk to Harry?” “Yeah, I am,” Ginny answered, not taking her eyes from his as she prepared for a challenge. Bart merely nodded in understanding. “My wife,” he said, “told me back at the house that I should give you a chance. That there was more than the image of you that I invented in my mind over the years based on what I heard from Harry. So despite any misgivings I had, because my wife is the smartest person I’ve ever known, I agreed to. And I’m glad I did because I do like you, Ginny.” He smiled at her. “I really didn’t want to but I do. Maybe someday, you and I can even be friends too. But if that’s ever going to happen, there’s something you need to know.” “What’s that?” Bart snickered to himself, scuffing his feet amongst the debris of the feast. “I’ve got a sob story; a real doozy of a sob story. If we get to be pals, you might just be unlucky enough to hear it someday. But the moral of my story is that I don’t have a lot of family in my world, okay?” Ginny nodded, trying to see where he was going. “I’ve got friends coming out of every orifice: friends that are great for a beer, a laugh, a game of cards, and a couple of nights that I cannot for the life of me remember. Friendship has always been easy for me, but family…that one’s tricky. Nell was the first real family I ever had. And family is tough, a lot tougher than friendship. It’s scarier. When someone hurts a friend, you can find a way to let it go. When someone hurts family, you have to carry it as much as they do. But it’s worth it, you know? The tradeoffs are unbelievable.” “Bart, what are you trying to say?” “My point is this: Nell is one part of my family and that guy,” he pointed in the direction Harry had just walked, “is the other. Apart from a creepy guy with a big snake trying to kill him all the time, he and I didn’t grow up all that differently. I love him like a brother. We might not have gone through everything that he and Ron did, but I truly believe I helped him get through one of the most difficult times of his life.” He looked at her significantly; Ginny nodded in acceptance as Bart shrugged in resignation. “Look whatever you’re going to say to him tonight, just be honest about it. And whatever he needs to say to you just let him say it. He’s got a lot to get off of his chest when it comes to you; a lot of things that have been holding him back for years. Even if it’s painful, let him say it. Because as much as it hurts you to hear, remember that Harry’s been the one living with it.” She couldn’t help it. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Bart’s neck, standing on her tiptoes to reach him. “What’s going on right now?” “I’m thanking you.” “For what?” “Caring so much about him,” Ginny replied, not loosening her grip and laying her head on his shoulders, trying to put all her gratitude towards Bart for being a champion to Harry into the hug. “I’m really glad he found you and Nell.” Tentatively, Bart wrapped his arms her waist. “Me too,” he said huskily. He squeezed her a bit more firmly and her sensitive breasts pressed tighter against his chest. She flinched in pain and pulled back. “Ouch,” she hissed to herself, looking down at her chest in annoyance. “These things are going to take some getting used to.” Bart’s eyes zeroed in and then immediately looked away from her chest. “Ah,” he drawled loudly before he cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I guess that’s what they call the joys of pregnancy.” Ginny stared at him incredulously. “What?” “Ho-how did you know?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Nell didn’t…?” “No! No, of course not,” he assured her quickly. “Harry did.” “What?!” Ginny asked, even more upset. “Why would he ever…He said he wouldn’t tell until-” “He was drunk,” Bart cut in rapidly, silencing her train of thought. “He came back early from New York a few weeks ago, out of the blue, and just got absolutely bombed like I haven’t seen him since…never mind. What I mean is this: Harry didn’t intend to betray your confidence. You know he’s not that kind of guy. It just slipped out of him by accident. And you don’t need to worry; I am good with secrets. Used to be part of my job description after all. No one else has heard or is going to hear about that,” he gesticulated wildly at her midsection, “from my lips.” “Okay,” Ginny nodded, mollified but still somewhat shaken by the knowledge that seeing her had apparently prompted Harry to go on a drinking binge. Her nerves were faltering and she knew if she intended to speak to Harry, she had to do it soon before her fear won out. “Is there anything I should know?” “Nope, that about covers it. Harry’s house is down by the lake. Just stay straight on the road and you won’t be able to miss it.” He walked backwards, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ll, uh, leave you to it then.” “Okay.” She turned around and started down the street again. “And Ginny?” Bart called, waiting for her to face him before he smiled faintly at her. “I really do hope we get to be friends someday.” “Me too,” she agreed. Gathering her courage once more, she set off down the road. Her courage ebbed and flowed with each step. She talked herself into going back to the inn at least two dozen times, but no matter how much her resolve weakened, her feet kept moving forward, unhindered by her doubt, as the houses around her grew increasingly further apart and the perfectly lined cobblestone streets turned into a dirt path. Finally, she saw it to her left: A sloping, winding path that led to a spacious wood cottage with a stone chimney sitting by a huge lake, black with night. Squinting, she could just make out his figure standing alone on a small, brightly lit dock. Here we are then. All that’s left to do is step in the water and come out the other side. “Please, please let me do this right,” she whispered to herself as she slowly made her way down the hill. “Please don’t let me make this any worse than it is.” The air around the lake was tranquil and nearly silent. As she reached the platform of the dock, she saw his head turn slightly; he didn’t acknowledge her but he didn’t demand that she turn away. Taking in a shaky breath, she made her way to stand beside him, each step an exercise in nervousness and indecision, until she stood to his left, her shoulder only a few inches from his. The silence was both torture and reprieve. It felt awful not knowing how to talk to him but at the same time, the longer she didn’t speak, the longer it would be that she didn’t have to apologize to Harry for protecting him by causing him so much pain. He didn’t make a sound next to her or move to go inside. All she could do was stand still, gazing out at the vastness of the lake in front of her and the deep, plentiful wooded island out in the middle of it. “It’s beautiful,” she heard herself say quietly. Beside her, she felt Harry turn toward her but she kept her eyes locked ahead. Okay, toe is in the water. Let’s see what it feels like up to our knees. “This place,” she clarified, forcing her head to turn right and look into his restrained eyes. “The property around here is magnificent. Only thing it’s missing is a Quidditch pitch then it’d be perfect.” Harry still didn’t speak for a moment. She began to question her sanity for thinking it was a good idea to approach him, that there was any chance to find a sense of normalcy between them. Just as she was about to bid him a clumsy goodbye, he jutted his head to the side, to the woods across the lake. “It’s over there,” he said distantly, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “past the tree line. Had to buy the whole sodden island to put it in. Then I had to petition the Council to build the thing, but once I told them that the Quidditch pitch would be open to the community, they unanimously approved.” He smiled a little. “We have a whole league and everything.” “Really?” “Yeah,” Harry said with a bit of pride, relaxing his stiff posture ever so. “It’s a bit like at Hogwarts. We play from September to June, but we have eight teams here, all ages and such. We have a great big cup with the winner’s names on it that’s displayed at the Millennium Falcon. The winners, if they’re of age, don’t have to pay for a drink all summer. If the winners are kids, then its fifty Galleons worth of products from Beaglebee’s Toy Shop. I think people like that more than the cup.” “That’s great, Harry. I’m glad you still get to play.” “No, I don’t…I gave the playing part up. I coach a team of the younger kids. We placed third this year and I think if Paddy Dorbin gains a bit more confidence between the hoops, we’ve got a real shot at winning it all next year,” he said with a fraction of a smile. If Ginny hadn’t been trying to understand what he had just said, she would have been ecstatic his lips could give her a smile of any sort. But as it was, she was too confused to process it. “You coach Quidditch,” she stated, squinting as she tried to connect the dots, “but you don’t play yourself anymore?” He shook his head indifferently, turning back to the lake. “Quidditch…it’s just not for me anymore, I suppose.” “Were you injured?” She tried to remember Ron mentioning an injury but she couldn’t. “Can you not play because of that?” “No, I’m perfectly healthy. I just choose not to.” “But why-?” “Ginny please,” he said impatiently, facing her again. “It isn’t a big deal. There’s nothing mysterious about it. I just don’t play a sport anymore. That’s all there is to it.” The acceptance, the finality of that statement threatened to drive Ginny around the twist. Harry Potter deciding not to play Quidditch, even as a friendly game, was equal to a bird choosing not to fly or a river refusing to run or her mother deciding she never wanted to cook again. There was no sense to it whatsoever. She wanted so badly to understand. She felt like she could taste the questions on the tip of her tongue. But everything about Harry’s stance told her the subject was dropped as far as he was concerned. “Well,” she finally managed to say, “I bet that you’re a really great coach. You were definitely one of the best captains I ever had.” He nodded slowly. Bending down, he picked up a smooth white pebble from a rusty bucket by his feet. He chucked the stone into the inky black water, listening as the stone gave a few quiet splashes before he smoothly picked up another. “So you think you’ll be around here long enough to see my coaching prowess in person?” he asked mid throw. “Um, no,” she said, tucking her cloak around her a little tighter. “I’m only staying until the end of July.” She laughed quietly to herself. “To tell you the truth, I shouldn’t even stay that long. I should be out looking for a job and a place to live. But I guess I just needed a bit of an escape from reality.” “Prince Charming really left you high and dry, didn’t he?” The barb stung like a whip lash, but she bit back her angry retort. He was certainly entitled to be sarcastic and cruel if he wanted to be. “Yeah,” she said instead, letting her hair fall around her red cheeks. “Yeah, he did. But I suppose I had it coming.” Harry stopped his almost rhythmic throwing and cursed under his breath. “No, you didn’t,” he said, his tone softer. “You were…with him a long time. He should have treated you with more respect, no matter the circumstances.” There it was. The door would never be held open wider for her. She just had to find it in herself to walk through. “I should-” she started to say, her tongue freezing to the roof of her mouth. She shook her head, taking in a deep breath before she tried again, “I should have treated you better when I…when I broke things off between us.” She turned to face him head on, hoping she was able to do this without breaking apart as his eyes fixed in on her own. “I shouldn’t have just shut you out without an explanation. I should have been brave enough to make you understand why I couldn’t be with you anymore. What you went through…what I was told about what you went through, that shouldn’t have happened. It was so unfair to you and I know you have no reason to, but please believe me when I say that hurting you was absolutely the last thing in the world that I wanted. After everything you did-all the sacrifices you made to save us all from Voldermort- the one thing you were entitled to was peace and I will never be able to apologize enough for stealing that from you in any way.” Alright, Ginevra. The water’s up to your shoulders now. You’re almost there. “I-I am sorry, Harry,” she said forcefully, hoping against hope she could hold the fragile grasp she had on her emotions just a little longer. “The words aren’t enough; I don’t know if there will ever be anything that’s enough to right what I did. If,” she swallowed, trying to stop herself from trembling, “if you can’t ever for-forgive me, that’s…I understand completely. That’s perfe-” She stopped short, trying in vain to get control of her warring emotions. She was so focused on that task that she barely heard what Harry said. “I don’t want that,” he said haltingly. She stared at him, baffled, as his own emotions broke through the surface. “What I mean is, I want to find a way past our…past, for lack of a better term.” He smiled grimly at her. “I don’t hate you. Maybe, at one time I did, but holding on to that kind of hurt and anger? That’s what breeds Dark magic and I will never let that touch my soul again. “But there is something that I need to know and I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?” he asked her imploringly, his eyes begging. Unable to speak, she nodded briskly. “Was it really just my job that made you leave?” he asked in a tiny whisper. “Was it really something that inconsequential that pushed you away?” Here we are. Just hold your breath and plunge right in. Go slow if you need to, but keep going, no matter what. It’s time to sink or swim. “That…that job was your life,” she tried to argue, her voice cracking against the tears. “The only thing you ever wanted for yourself.” “No,” he disagreed, taking a step towards her and invading her personal space. She immediately stepped back. “It wasn’t. You were my life. You were the-” “But I shouldn’t have been!” she shouted hoarsely into the still night as Harry stared at her in disbelief. She took in a hulking breath as she tried to sort her thoughts into words. “You…you were wonderful when you realized how much help I needed with my depression my last year of school. You made it your mission to protect me and make me strong. But you let that good intention take you over completely. And some of it was my responsibility. I could see how bad things were getting and I didn’t do enough to help you. I saw it all, but I couldn’t stop it: You threatened people; you lost focus at your job; you closed yourself off from your friends who loved you and you…you almost…Harry you almost died because of it,” she choked out. She started to walk back up the dock slowly, nearly overcome as she struggled to remember the past without reliving it. Harry caught up with her immediately, grasping both of her shoulders to keep her in place. “What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to meet her teary eyes. “You can’t mean…the explosion? You think that was your fault?” “Of course it was!” she said angrily, squirming away from his hold. She had worked so hard to try not to think of that awful day that the memories were hitting her aching heart with the force of cannon fire. Harry looked at her in wonder, mouth agape. “How could ever think that you were responsible for that?” “You were distracted! Thinking about me and that stupid appointment we were going to that afternoon! You admitted it when you woke up, it was the first thing you said!” “So what if I was thinking about you?!” he cried out, his façade of control melting away. “That day had nothing to do with you! Were you the informant that tipped us off about the whole operation to begin with? Did you go into that building with those lunatics and rig it to blow up as a security measure? Were you the Auror still sporting a hangover from the night before who declared the damn place clear without casting a spell to check for combustible entities before the rest of us went in?” “Ron told me he saw you reading a piece of paper when the Detecting Charm went off. He said you stuffed it in your pocket when everyone else began Apparating away. I searched your clothes in the hospital and the only paper I found was that godforsaken letter I wrote you three days before! Don’t you dare try and tell me I didn’t have a hand in almost costing you your life!” Harry’s face twisted in fury and without a word, he stalked past her back to the end of the dock. He reached into the bucket for more rocks and started flinging them violently into the lake, one by one. Ginny wiped her cheeks with both hands, wanting nothing more than for it to be over. There was no part of her mind, body, and soul that didn’t feel bruised and broken. It wasn’t healthy for her to be here now, feeling like she had just done battle with six Death Eaters on her own. Everything she felt, her daughter felt as well. If she felt ready to drop to the floor and sleep for three days from this, the baby couldn’t be faring much better. She had to leave. But not before finishing what she had started. “What I did to you was cruel,” she said reluctantly, raising her voice so he would hear her. Harry never stopped casting the stones into the water but she continued, “My only defense is that I was scared and that I truly believed leaving you was the only way to help you. I really am sorry. More than you will ever know. “But I think maybe in the end, it was a good thing, my leaving you,” she said, trying to salvage a small bit of hope for the whole awful situation. “What happened led you here, to this lovely place, where you can live in peace; to your own home, without any dreadful reminders of losing Sirius or your parents in it; to people that you love and make you happy, like Bart and Nell and…and Meredith. You have-” The small stone whizzed right past her head. She didn’t see it in the darkness but she heard it whistle loudly past her ear and thud down a few feet behind her on the wood. She stared frozen at Harry’s appalled face. “I-I didn’t me-mean to,” he stuttered, horrified and shaking. He stepped forward and she instantly stepped back. He stopped and cupped his hands over his face in shame, staying silent as her heart eased back into beating. Finally, he lowered his hands, tears glistening in his eyes. Even though he had just frightened her, she couldn’t help but want to reach out and comfort him. “I’m sorry. I swear it was an accident, Ginny. I was already throwing the blasted rock and it was coming out of my hand when I turned around to talk to you. I know things were…heated between us just now, but you have to know that I would never, ever-” “I do,” she assured him, taking a few steps closer, thankful her long dress and cloak hid her shaking limbs. He sniffed harshly and nodded, rubbing the sleeve of his jacket over his face. “You’re not violent unless you have to be. I didn’t mean to startle you.” “It’s just…you haven’t been in my life for three years and to hear you speak as if you somehow know who I am now or what I feel…” He ran his hands through his hair, walking contemplatively in a slow, tight circle before he straightened his face wan and tired. “Whatever happened between us, there’s nothing to be done about it now. We are who we are now. The only thing we have control over is moving forward.” “You’re right,” she agreed, stepping a little closer. He tried to smile at her but couldn’t; he did, however, take a cautious step forward. He hesitated for a moment, tapping his fingers against his thigh nervously. Ginny wondered if she should say goodnight when Harry blurted out in a rush, “Maybe, sometime later this week, you could have dinner with Bart, Nell, and me at the pub. The three of us try to get together for dinner a couple of times a week. You could join us…if you’d like to.” She felt like a tiny finger poke to her forehead would knock her head over her feet. Was this really happening? Ginny nodded once, empathetically. “I would like that very much.” “Good. Then…we’ll try to set that up,” he said, studying her closely. An owl hooted somewhere nearby. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s late. I should let you get back into town.” “Right, of course.” She smiled a little brighter at him. “Good night, Harry,” she said gently before turning to head back on the path. “Wait a minute,” Harry called out, walking to catch up with her. “Why aren’t you Apparating?” Ginny wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I tried it when I got back to London, but it made me feel all out of sorts. Maybe it’s a pregnancy,” she winced at the word, hating to bring it up after they had reached a plateau, “thing of some kind.” Harry merely nodded as he walked beside her away from his house. “You should…you should talk to Nell about that,” he suggested, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “Right. Harry, why are you following me?” “Just walking you back to the Green Swallow. That’s where you’re staying, isn’t it?” She nodded. “Okay then. Let’s get you back there then.” “Alright,” she replied, looking ahead on the road as he did the same. It wasn’t complete forgiveness nor was it an acknowledgement that her rash actions in the past had provided Harry with a path to a good life in Hastom. It wasn’t a fresh new start with bygones being bygones or even the outlandish hope of a friendship between the two of them. It was only Harry walking her back into town and nebulous plans for dinner with Bart and Nell. But compared to even twenty-fours ago, it was a wealth of riches to Ginny. Look at that. You swam. |
| Reviews 713 |
Previous Next
|
