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We Had to Start Somewhere | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy, Drama, Fluff, General, Humor Warnings: Death Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 314 Summary: Some believe in love at first sight, but for Harry and Ginny first sight happened years ago and they're far from enamored. It seems they will have to settle for the gradual kind, the kind that drives us all mad but makes sense - in the end. Hitcount: Story Total: 84358; Chapter Total: 6124 |
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Part Nine Life took a perplexing turn over the next several weeks and, for Harry, that meant quite a lot. Professor Dumbledore immediately reinstated the D.A. and, though pleasantly surprised by Harry’s choice for a partner, agreed that Ginny would do very well. He insisted, however, that Professor Bhamra act as an advisor. He wasn’t sure to make of that but, frankly, Harry was relieved that it wasn’t Professor Snape. After a run-in or two with the Defense instructor, Harry, Ginny and Professor Bhamra agreed that the Room of Requirement was an ideal place to meet. Word quickly got out and it left them thankful that the Room had an almost limitless ability to grow. Professor Bhamra took the oldest students, as he felt he had the best ability to teach them the darkest of the Dark Arts; Harry took the third through fifth years (he was glad for that because Lisa showed up first of all the sixth years and had given him hopeful look); Ginny was left with the first and second years, which she insisted was best because her mother had given her at least some pampering tendencies while Harry had absolutely none. If he’d known that those were the last words they’d speak for a number of weeks, he would have smiled more in response. She never told him what happened between her and Dean that night, though it was probably because he hadn’t asked. No matter how curious he got, Harry put a kibosh on the whole idea, knowing it wasn’t his place — or at least wasn’t supposed to be. They were still together, though he had a hunch that things were strained. Harry blamed the ongoing rumors that he and Ginny had enjoyed a passionate snog or two behind Dean’s back. Dean, for his part, didn’t appear to believe the lies but that didn’t stop him from being a little more reserved around Harry than usual. Their dorm room always had some underlying tension whenever they were both in it and it wasn’t long before they came into an unspoken agreement: they only co-existed while sleeping. As for Ginny, she became eerily silent before long. When Harry wanted to practice a bit outside of the D.A., she had homework to do. If he wanted to hang out a bit after Quidditch, she’d already made previous plans with her dorm mates or Dean. It didn’t take long before Harry knew without a doubt that she was avoiding him; he could see it in the way she wouldn’t look back at him when she spoke or smiled tightly in response to his feeble jokes. Private defense lessons weren’t even an option. At night — while Dean slept — Harry wondered what he had gone wrong. Princess in hand, he thought hard, trying to find where he’d said something wrong or unintentionally hurt her feelings. He came up with nothing. There was nothing to be found. A week passed where he didn’t even try speaking to her and felt all the worse; she didn’t try, either. There was something to the way she walked that told him something was wrong, but it was if a wall had come up between them without his permission. And no matter what he did or considered, there was nothing Harry could do to fix it. She wasn’t going to let him. On the eighth night, he dreamed about Sirius and woke up in a cold sweat. On the ninth morning, he started missing her rather badly. “You really care about her, don’t you?” Harry pretended he didn’t hear the concern in Hermione’s voice. “Harry, at least give me the courtesy of paying attention for a split second.” Okay, he couldn’t ignore the bossiness, though. That was potentially hazardous. Looking up from his parchment, Harry asked, “What?” “You know exactly what,” Hermione said, rather crossly. “What do you want me to do?” Harry mumbled, glancing down at his parchment, pretending to take notes from the book beside him. “I-I don’t know.” “Well, thanks, Hermione, you’ve made it all much better,” Harry said sarcastically. When Hermione didn’t say anything back, he looked up at her and was unsettled to see the hurt look on her face. He felt as if he’d kicked a puppy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Hermione nodded and looked off to the side. Ron was running late, citing detention but keeping it vague for fear of Hermione’s wrath. Hence, it was just the two of them in the library looking up details for a Charms essay and starting on their Transfiguration homework. Months prior, he would have laughed at the idea of voluntarily getting ahead on his assignments, but NEWT preparations had proven to be hard work. It’s not like he had much else to do, anyway. Harry winced slightly at the thought. “Do you dislike Dean?” Hermione asked quietly. “What? No,” Harry shook his head. “Why would I?” “Well, he’s essentially set an embargo on Ginny’s time for the past three weeks. I’ve hardly seen her, I know you’ve seen her less,” Hermione explained. “It’s obvious you’re unhappy about it.” “She’s really busy lately,” Harry mumbled, trying very hard to believe the conclusion he’d come to. “And boyfriends take priority over friends.” He broke eye contact and stared intently at the shelves behind her. Though Hermione spoke again, he didn’t move his eyes back to her. “But you two are different, everyone knows that.” “That’s the problem,” Harry said, frowning. When it was clear that he wouldn’t add anymore, Hermione leaned her arms on the table and lowered her voice. “Can I speak freely?” Harry smiled crookedly, “Could I stop you?” “Good point,” Hermione settled into her seat. “When we got on the Hogwarts Express a couple months ago, you were different. I didn’t know what it was and it was so… bizarre. And all throughout our trip, I kept thinking that something had changed for you and I didn’t know what.” He shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah, so?” “You were happy, Harry, the happiest I’d seen you in a long time.” Her voice kind, Hermione added, “And it didn’t take long for me to see that it was because of Ginny. When you’re around her, you’re like a new Harry. You’re not afraid to be silly or outlandish and you laugh so much more.” There were hidden words underneath her statement and Harry couldn’t help but wonder when the last time it was that he’d sincerely laughed. It had been a while. Hermione sighed again. “I know it has nothing to do with romance, no matter what Ron thinks. For the two of you, it’s like you just meet up, like you just connect.” “Connect,” Harry repeated. “Yeah,” Hermione said softly. “I know this, Hermione, I do.” Harry pushed his hand roughly through his hair. “But she’s got other stuff on her mind right now. I shouldn’t even bother — I’ll just make it worse.” Hermione huffed slightly, “That noble streak is going to get the better of you one day.” “Better for me to be noble than Ginny to get hurt,” Harry shot back, coloring slightly as Hermione gave him a sharp look. “The rumors about me and her aren’t helping. She likes him, okay? I don’t know why and it’s none of my business, but she does and I’m not going to say anything against it.” Her eyebrows rose high. “So you do dislike him.” “I’m-” Stuck, and knowing he was stuck, Harry threw his hands in the air, “I’m not a fan, all right? Maybe before, yeah, but not right now.” Though she appeared slightly appeased, Hermione didn’t turn back to her homework. That meant she was still thinking plenty and Harry reconciled himself to waiting for whatever was brewing in her mind to spill out of her mouth. Finally, she said, quite hesitantly, “Harry, do you think it’s possible-” “That I like her?” He finished for her, this time with a decidedly sardonic tone. Hermione went slightly pink. “Yeah.” “I don’t,” Harry shrugged. There was a small struggle there before Hermione nodded and said, “Okay.” Harry laughed a little, entirely without humor, “I’m guessing it would be easier if I did.” She gave him a tiny smile, “Then you’d just steal her back.” “Ravish her,” Harry joked. “Sweep her off her feet,” Hermione added. “Confess my undying devotion.” Harry played with the quill in his hands and shook his head. “Nah, it turns out I just miss my friend.” “I’m sorry, Harry.” Hermione’s face was full of regret. “It’ll be okay,” Harry assured her. “Eventually.” Harry really hated it when Hermione made him think. On the seventeenth day, he made a list: 1. We’re just friends. 2. I don’t feel nervous around her. 3. Jumpy stomach? Racing heartbeat? None. 4. She has a boyfriend. 5. She’s got a horrible temper. 6. We haven’t spoken in almost three weeks. 7. She sings really badly. 8. Harry stopped, stuck. He really needed ten. All good lists had ten reasons. He pondered this for several minutes before adding: 8. It would make Ron too smug. 9. I’m shite with all girls. 10. It would make things really awkward. Sitting back, he tried to feel good about his list, his all-knowing list that explained why he could never fancy his friend. After reading over it again, he sighed and threw it in the bin. Hermione decided that it was time for extreme measures. If Harry was going to get his mind on anything else, it would have to be something big, time-consuming and preferably overwhelming. They chose the prophecy. With a little assistance from Professor McGonagall, they were able to get into the Restricted Section at their leisure — it turned out the Room of Requirement, while far-reaching, was banned from the Restricted Section, too. There were books there, then, that he’d never seen before and some Harry would never want to touch again. Then there were others that made him feel a little bit better. Harry knew could do those spells if he concentrated hard enough, focused enough. It was time to do that. Hermione made him study up on legendary curses and Ron waded through piles of parchment with him. Hermione and Ron bickered and Harry rolled his eyes at them. They were a trio again and Harry realized that they hadn’t been, just for a little while. Distraction or not, it was nice to have their camaraderie in his life once more. Then something odd happened. As he spent more time with them and his mind began to clear, he started looking at things differently. And once he got over missing Ginny so deeply and resenting Dean, he started feeling… well, a little angry with her. He didn’t want to think of it that way, but his mind went strange places as he wandered the aisles of the Restricted Section. What had happened to that so-called Weasley loyalty? The one that bound anyone with red-hair to stick by their friends’ sides? Yeah, so Dean was her boyfriend, but was he acting like a right ponce. What had Harry done? Nothing. Harry would shove books rather harshly back into its place, not caring about how some squealed in pain as he began to sulk. And when he began to sulk, he began to avoid Ginny even more. Days began to pass where he didn’t even look at her at all and was relieved to forget her entirely. He’d treated her with respect (well, mostly — it was too easy to tease Ginny sometimes) and always listened when she had something to say. When Ginny behaved as if she didn’t think she was good enough to do something — which happened more often than people thought — Harry had made sure to give her a kick in the arse and tell her to stop being stupid. And what had that gotten him? Pushed aside, that’s what. It started to go in cycles, the sadness and the fuming. Whenever he thought of something particularly clever, Harry found himself missing her all over again. She would have liked the joke, he thought. But then he’d see her laughing along with Dean and get mad at the situation, and her, once more. It was, simply, very confusing. One day in late November, right before a D.A. meeting, Ron came upon him setting up the Room of Requirement. He watched Harry for a few moments before commenting, “You look tired.” “Good to see you, too, mate,” Harry answered, setting out a section of pillows in one corner of the room. He kicked them into place, hoping that they wouldn’t have to experience another first year’s bump on the head, post-stunning. “Are you going to make it today?” “I am, but Hermione’s caught up with something in the library,” Ron rolled his eyes. “I know, big surprise.” Harry chuckled and turned from the cushions, enlarging some pebbles into large rocks in another corner. He’d been teaching the Reduction curse to his third years and it was best to keep them tidy and away from possible victims. “Say,” Ron said carefully. “I hear Ginny’s looking for you.” “Mmm.” Harry had heard that the day before, but he’d been in the middle of mood- “Ah, angry Harry today,” Ron remarked. Harry tried to keep his face neutral. “She knows where to find me.” Ron drew up beside him and started enlarging some of the pebbles. He didn’t comment further on Harry’s feigned apathy, but that was probably because Hermione had made sure to have words with him after her conversation with Harry. Suffice to say, Ron had refrained from teasing Harry whatsoever if it involved Ginny. Professor Bhamra arrived before they could speak any further, several older students following after him. They were peppering him with questions and, while he looked slightly annoyed, Professor Bhamra was quick to take them to a separate part of the room and begin on his lessons. Harry gave him a slight nod and finished enlarging the pebbles — because of the D.A. and its popularity, they’d been studying theory more and more during class. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the older man even though he’d known him for several weeks. Distraction from his Defense professor was quick, as Harry could feel Ginny’s eyes on him from the moment she entered the room, Dean at her side. He pointedly avoided her gaze and when she said hello, merely gave her a backwards wave of his hand. Almost instantly, he felt a sick-feeling in his stomach and chose to ignore it. She was getting a taste of her own medicine, whether he felt badly about it or not. Harry threw himself in working with his group, conveniently missing where Ginny tried to get him to convene with her and Professor Bhamra. Frustration evident after she finished speaking to their advisor, Ginny led the first and second years in a rather rousing practice of Alohamora and Stupefy. While she remained kind towards them, however, Harry could hear the strain hidden under the careful training. There was no missing when Ginny hit her limit because she set the younger students to stun each other on the cushions and stalked quickly over to Harry. “You,” she said under her breath as he surveyed his students, “will stay here after everyone’s gone. We need to talk.” Harry gave her what he hoped was a rather cool look. “Am I?” “Yes,” Ginny said through gritted teeth. “You are.” Then a first year recovered from being stunned, began screaming bloody murder and Ginny left him alone. He waited. It made sense, really, despite his anger and despite his temptation to walk away in order to prove a point. But, he asked himself, what was the point in the first place? “You’re angry with me,” Ginny said first thing after the last student left. Harry started cleaning up, though the Room would have done it for them. This did not pass Ginny’s attention and she groaned slightly before adding, “Would you least look at me? We need to talk about this.” He adopted his pseudo-cool tone as he looked over at her, “Odd, we haven’t had much to talk about in a while.” She clearly struggled with retorting badly before saying, “So it seems.” “So?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. Ginny put her hands behind her back. “I need to tell you something.” “And that is…?” Harry asked, trying to keep his tone disinterested. It must have gotten across, because Ginny was a tad impatient when she said, “Harry, come on.” “I’m not stopping you, Ginny.” He vanished the rubble left behind by the third years. “I’m listening.” “Are you?” Ginny set her hands on her hips. “Because it looks like you’re in a sulk to me.” “And how would you know?” Harry mumbled. Ginny nearly hissed, her hackles rising visibly. “That’s unfair. You’re the one who was avoiding me.” “Yeah, about that, it wasn’t really my choice was it?” Harry said back, his temper spiking slightly. She scowled at him. “Do you want me to say it was mine? Fine, I started it and it was a stupid decision at that. It wasn’t decision at all, more like a several bad steps in a row.” “Yeah, it wa-” Harry stopped short, stunned. “Wait, what?” “Gods,” Ginny breathed out loudly and stared at the ceiling. “I handled things badly, okay?” Harry’s eyes asked the obvious question and Ginny said, “Things got complicated for a while. I tried taking time to work it out and I ended up… not treating you well.” When he scoffed openly at her understatement, Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not like you’ve done anything to the contrary, Harry.” “And when was I supposed to do that?” Harry asked. “When you had ‘other plans’ or were ‘too tired’? I ran into that problem a lot.” Ginny opened her mouth — her temper was rising, he could tell that much — but held back admirably. “I don’t want to fight with you. All I wanted to do was apologize, okay? Can you at least give me a chance to do that?” Crossing his arms, Harry gave her a challenging look. “I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Ginny said, taking a deep breath afterwards before continuing. “I had a lot of things on my mind and I should have at least told you I was trying to figure things out instead of ignoring you.” He tried to process this, he really did, but Harry found that it still didn’t make any sense. Ginny’s face was truly apologetic, but he was unmoved. And when he didn’t respond, Ginny snapped. “Damn it, at least say something,” she demanded. “I don’t know what to say,” Harry replied. He started clearing the room again, attempting to untangle his thoughts. Ginny followed after him. “Harry, have you noticed that I can’t keep a thing from you? Everything that I have, you know every part of it. All you have to do is ask and I tell you.” “I didn’t ask for that,” Harry muttered. Enflamed, Ginny said, “Some things shouldn’t even be your business and I can’t stop myself. And with things between Dean and I being the way we are-” He gave her a sharp look, “What?” She brushed back her hair, gripping at the strands with her fingers. “It’s not good, okay?” “Why didn’t you tell me that?” Harry asked slowly. “Because things shouldn’t be this way!” Ginny argued, color rising in her cheeks. “I shouldn’t be closer to someone else when I have a boyfriend who is sweet and kind and better to me than almost anyone I’ve ever met. He shouldn’t have to feel threatened by your place in my life when we’re just friends.” Biting the inside of his cheek, Harry stopped himself from pointing out that she was doing it again, telling him things that he truly didn’t need to know. “And I missed you, okay?” Ginny said, deflating. “A whole bloody hell of a lot. I really missed you.” Regardless of his intention of remaining stoic, Harry felt himself softening at this admission. Even as he resisted the thought, he said, “I missed you, too.” Silence fell between them for several moments and Ginny began staring intently at her shoes. Harry found his own laces were amazingly fascinating and refused to look up at her. The words tried to repeat in his head, but Harry pushed away Ginny’s professed confusion; it mirrored his own too much and he knew it would be a very, very dangerous thing to face head-on. Finally, Ginny said in a soft voice, “I just want us to be okay.” “Right,” Harry replied, still not looking at her. “So… are we okay or not?” Ginny asked lowly. Harry started to say yes, he was a split second from saying yes, but he was just as shocked as Ginny when he answered, “No… I don’t think we are.” He looked up to see Ginny blink wildly at him and cough out, “W-what?” “No,” Harry repeated, slowly. “We aren’t.” “Why?” Ginny asked, stunned by disbelief. “Because you can’t do things like this,” Harry answered, remembering how confused he’d been by her sudden silence. And as he remembered it, his temper began to spike again. He hadn’t done anything wrong and still been punished. “You can’t treat me like it’s my fault that you’re going through a hard time. You can’t just ignore me and not say why.” “You haven’t even acknowledged me in more than week and that’s worse than anything I did,” Ginny accused, her own irritation beginning to show. “Did I ask for an apology from you?” “I don’t think I owe you one,” Harry bit out. “You don’t owe me one? You completely gave up on me and I don’t merit an apology?” The spiteful note in his voice couldn’t be disguised. “Well, I think it just makes us even.” Ginny stepped back as she inhaled sharply and Harry suddenly felt like crawling into a hole. This was the first time ever the fact of her former crush had come up between them and he’d thrown it like a red flag in her face. If he could have sunk into the floor to avoid her, he would have. “That-” Ginny steadied herself. “That was a long time ago.” Even more upset now, Harry didn’t say anything back. She stared hard at the floor for several moments before asking, “So, what? You’re in a strop because I tried figuring things out a little at a time? Is that it?” “It’s the fact that you can’t just push me or anybody else aside just because of a bloke,” Harry replied, trying to keep his voice even. “Especially when we’re the kind of friends we are — or were. Memories don’t make a person feel better about being disposable.” “I never… I never thought of you as disposable,” Ginny protested “And then” — Harry continued as if he didn’t hear her — “you did it for Dean. Dean! You can’t even tell him what you want to do after Hogwarts!” Incredulous even through her fury, Ginny asked, “What does that have to do with anything?” “It has to do with the fact that this wasn’t my fault,” Harry said hotly. “He didn’t feel threatened because of how close you are to me, it was because you weren’t telling him anything. Even when I said you should, you didn’t. That’s not my fault, Ginny, it’s yours.” When she only stared at him in response, Harry kept on, “I got mad at myself first because I thought I was the reason why Dean was upset. Then I got mad at him for being a wanker about it, when, guess what? It makes sense for him. His girlfriend is closer to someone else and it’s not his fault. You are the one who’s keeping things from him. Why is that, Ginny?” “That’s a dandy point of view from a boy whose one relationship collapsed after one date,” Ginny retorted when she recovered. For a split second, she looked as if she very much regretted saying that before collecting herself and lifting her chin defiantly. “What the bloody hell do you know? Tell me, how’s Cho doing these days?” “Don’t try turning this on me,” Harry shot back, his face flushing. “I can say whatever I want, you self-righteous arse,” Ginny replied, a knife-sharp edge to her voice. Harry grit his teeth, “Better a self-righteous arse than a selfish, narrow-minded cow.” They glared at each other for several moments, the tension thick in the air. A small part of Harry was flailing wildly at his conscience, trying to kick-start it into apologizing to his friend. Ginny hadn’t asked for advice over Dean, she’d come with the intention of setting matters right and he’d thrown things in her face. Then again, she was returning it in spades. A larger part of his mind said that this whole confrontation served her right and he was glad for it. Harry turned away from her with a groan, wondering what to do. For her part, Ginny stomped away, no doubt wanting to get as far from him as possible. They were on opposite sides of the room, back to back with steam practically rising to the ceiling. His heart sank when he heard the door open and close; they were both angry, but he hadn’t expected her to walk out entirely. Harry dropped his head and sighed deeply. It was an even bigger mess than before. Suddenly, a book slammed on the table in front of him, put there by a pair of hands that certainly weren’t Ginny’s. Harry looked sideways, startled to find Hermione smiling up at him. “You have to see this, I can hardly believe it myself,” she said enthusiastically. Harry was still too dumbfounded to reply right away. “I found another prophecy like yours, Harry, it’s practically ancient, but I think we could use it to our advantage. The spell looks difficult and I had to translate it, of course, but I think if we practiced…” She trailed off, realizing that Harry was no longer looking at her but was instead staring back across the room. Panic and dread were blooming up in him and Harry wasn’t sure if he was breathing anymore. “Harry?” Hermione followed his gaze until it fell to the figure on the sofa against the wall. Ginny, legs crossed and face stony, stared back at Harry. “Oh, no,” Hermione breathed out. Harry had thought it couldn’t get worse. In that moment, he knew he’d been very, very wrong. “So.” Ginny crossed her arms, her voice frosty. “Could you repeat the part about keeping things from people? I think I’d love to hear about that in depth.” A/ N: And it’s here. Don’t expect the argument to be over because it’s definitely Ginny’s turn now. (And, yes, this was a look into how cruel these two can be to each other; it’s not all wine and roses, you know.) Nobody found the throwbacks, but both Amanda and Kjpzak mentioned the stories where they were from, so they win! Amanda, please leave your email and I'll send you a very special 'clip' from a future chapter; Kjpzak, yours is on the way. As always, please review - I welcome any and all comments. |
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