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SIYE Time:14:22 on 28th March 2024
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By lyras

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Extreme Language
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 4
Summary: Ginny confronts Harry about something they have in common: Voldemort.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3542







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Author's note: This was written in response to R_becca's alphabet challence on LiveJournal.


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Having secured street-side seats and an ice cream each, Harry and Ginny basked in the late afternoon sunshine and watched the crowds meandering by.


"So," said Ginny suddenly, then paused to lick a runaway rivulet of ice cream before continuing, "we're level now."


Harry looked up, puzzled. "What d'you mean?"


She shot him a dry look.


"I mean, Voldemort."


Ignoring Harry's appalled look, Ginny continued.


"You know — in my first year at school, Voldemort convinced me to do all those awful things. People nearly died - Hermione nearly died."


"You would've died," Harry put in quietly.


She gave a nod of acknowledgement, and then shrugged. "It was my fault, though. And then, all last year, Voldemort was messing with your head, until in the end…" She stopped.


"Until, in the end, I did something monumentally stupid, and Sirius died," Harry finished morosely. He stared down at his ice cream and drummed the fingers of his spare hand on the table. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"


Ginny looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be angry at Harry for extrapolating or sorry for implying exactly what Harry had inferred. She took a deep breath.


"Harry, I realise you've had a horrible year, and I'm really, really sorry about Sirius, and everything," her voice wavered slightly, but she forged on, "but can you please, just for once, stop blaming yourself?" Harry opened his mouth to speak, and she held up her hand to interrupt him. "I mean, honestly. You were sixteen last week, and you're fighting one of the most powerful wizards who's ever lived. He's killed, I don't know, hundreds of people!"


"My parents," Harry put in helpfully.


"Yes, exactly. And his supporters don't have any qualms about killing or torturing indiscriminately, either."


"Neville's parents," Harry added with a bitter shrug.


"M-hm." Ginny paused, as if trying to work out how to redirect this unpromising conversation. She tried again. "But what I'm trying to say is, of course you're going to make mistakes. And I know what happened was horrible, but there's going to be more of this. It's going to carry on until Voldemort is defeated for good. What you have to do is learn from it." She sat back in her chair.


Harry was silent for a moment, his lips working.


"It's just — it was all so unfair on Sirius!" he burst out finally. "All those years in Azkaban, and that time on the run, and then — I hate what that house did to him, while he was stuck there all year, feeling useless, and putting up with bloody Snape's taunting. Dealing with Kreacher, with all those memories of his disgusting family. And I had to go and fall straight into Voldemort's trap, taking you lot with me, and luring Sirius to…" His voice cracked on the last word; he took a huge mouthful of ice cream and swallowed desperately for a moment, while Ginny looked away, chewing on her lower lip.


When the silence threatened to become oppressive, Ginny spoke again.


"I don't know what to say about Sirius," she said slowly. "I mean, everyone knows his life was pretty horrendous towards the end — I could see the change in him even between last summer and Christmas, and I hardly knew him." She put down the remains of the ice cream cornet. "But — but Harry, Sirius chose to come to the Ministry. No one could've stopped him, if he thought you were in danger — you know that. He loved you so much, it was obvious to everyone. You were the one who gave him his happiness, last year. You and maybe Professor Lupin, as well," she finished thoughtfully.


Harry remained silent, twisting his empty ice cream carton convulsively as he stared at the table.


"Maybe that's true," he said finally. "But I must've disappointed him as much as I made him happy. He said I wasn't like my dad — he thought I was boring."


Ginny's arm spasmed suddenly, as if she'd gone to reach out towards him with her hand before thinking better of it. Harry didn't look up.


"And then, at Christmas, he gave me this mirror, and said I could use it to get in touch with him, if I needed to."


Ginny looked interested. "Oh? I've heard of those things."


"And I stuffed it into my trunk," Harry continued as if he hadn't heard her, "and forgot about it, what with the whole Occlumency thing, and Umbridge. I could've used it to call Sirius, if I'd only thought about it, when Voldemort made me see him being tortured. But all I could think about was rescuing him. Because that's what I do, isn't it - rescue people?" Harry's tone was venomous; he was in full flow for once. "Like I rescued Cedric! And…"


"You rescued me," Ginny cut in, quietly.


Harry stared at her for a long moment, before suddenly seeming to deflate. "Yeah, well, I suppose I did. It's so long ago, now — sometimes it feels a bit like a dream, you know?"


"Most of that year feels like a dream to me," said Ginny wryly.


His lips twisted in acknowledgement, and she pressed her advantage.


"It was — like a story, you know? Only, of course, when you're in the story, and about to be eaten by the big bad wolf, it's not actually romantic at all, and all you can think about when the handsome prince comes along is what your dad's going to say to you when he finds out, and how absolutely excruciatingly embarrassing it is to be rescued by the boy you've had an unrequited crush on for a year…"


Harry almost cracked a smile at that. "I suppose the setting was quite romantic," he offered.


"Mm, yes, underground sewers and giant snakes. Lovely!" She gazed vaguely at the street, her mind clearly elsewhere.


"I do know, Harry," she said eventually, carefully. "How it feels, I mean. I — well, I barely remember my first year, like I said, and the second year — I spent most of it creeping around, desperately hoping that no one would notice me and point out what I'd done. Yeah, Dumbledore said it would be kept quiet, but you know as well as I do how the rumour mill works in that place. Especially when Draco bloody twat Malfoy has insider knowledge and his dad wants revenge."


This time it was Harry who reached out; he laid his hand awkwardly on her forearm for a brief second before withdrawing it.


"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've thought — I didn't realise it was so bad for you."


She smiled at him, and there was warmth there, tempered by genuine misery.


"Yeah, well, you wouldn't, would you? Why should you? I was only a little kid who'd done something monumentally stupid, and almost got you, and herself, and other people killed." She glanced behind her, and squeezed her chair forward to allow a large man in smart robes to pass.

When she looked back at Harry, it was directly into his eyes. "So that's why we're level, now. We both know how it feels, to be made a fool of by Voldemort."


"Yeah," said Harry, almost inaudibly, as he inspected the table. "Yeah…"


The pair remained motionless for a while, lost in thought, while around them, Diagon Alley bustled. Florean Fortescue shouted orders at hurrying staff, and gleeful children ran back to their parents bearing ice creams. Harried mothers dragged unwilling eleven year-olds across the street to Madam Malkin's; teenagers gathered in front of shops, talking eagerly about the latest broomsticks or hatching schemes for getting into Knockturn Alley.

Finally, Ginny stood, waiting expectantly while Harry followed her to his feet. Without speaking, they walked off slowly, side by side, close but not quite touching, in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.
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