A/N: Draco's final speech in this chapter was heavily influenced by Wuthering Heights, which is one of the best novels ever! The story is winding its way toward a conclusion - I have (I think) 3 chapters left and an epilogue. I would greatly appreciate any suggestions, and I promise, Ginny will grow a spine very soon!
As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!
Chapter 9 - Christmas Confessions
"You're quite stubborn, you realize, right?"
Ginny huffed in exasperation at her companion, annoyed that she was bringing the subject up. Again.
"Oh, I'm stubborn?" she shot back. "I'd say the definition of stubborn is believing something despite mounds and mounds of incontrovertible evidence pointing to the fact that you're wrong. That seems a bit stubborn to me."
"Oh, facts," Luna replied with a dismissive wave of one mittened hand. "Daddy says facts are for people of little faith. And besides, if you want to talk about evidence, there's plenty to back my argument, if you ask me."
"Well, for one thing, I didn't ask you now that you mention it, and for another, your interpretation" - Ginny placed heavy emphasis on the word - "of the evidence is completely wrong."
Luna raised an eyebrow at her friend and for a moment, the only sound was the crunch of snow under their boots as they trod their way around the lake.
"Ginny," she said finally, an almost pleading note in her voice, "just think about it. Why would Malfoy have come to the ball if he didn't have feelings for you?"
"As I've said about a million times now, I'm sure he did it as part of the game he's playing with me. He thinks it's great fun to make me miserable."
"If he really wanted to make you miserable, he could have picked lots of easier ways to do it. He could have said something to Harry or your family, for one thing."
Ginny found herself sincerely wishing she hadn't told Luna everything that had happened between her and Draco. If she'd kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't have had to argue about him every day for nearly the last six weeks.
"Luna! He told me himself that it was a game! What more proof of his intentions do you need?" Ginny kicked at a snowdrift angrily.
"Right. He told you he didn't have feelings for you after he found you snogging Harry. And you can't think of any reason why he might, at that moment - when you had just betrayed him - say hurtful things to you? How are you getting such high marks in all your classes? That's a mystery even worthy of the Quibbler."
Ginny had a sudden urge to push her friend into the lake. "It wasn't just the words, Luna," she said icily. "He never gave me the chance to explain. He ignored me for the rest of the summer. He wouldn't even look at me. If he really had feelings for me, wouldn't he have tried to find out what happened? Maybe trusted me a little? Wouldn't he at least have heard me out before casting me off like complete garbage?"
"Oh, Ginny," Luna said softly. "He isn't very nice, is he? We're clearly not working with perfect material here. But he doesn't need to be perfect to love you. And at least he's not quite as bad as the evil sorcerer Ferrara. Legend has it that he caught his first wife just looking at another man and had her transfigured into a painting. His second wife apparently spoke too kindly to a gardener and she was transfigured into a statue. I can't remember what he turned his third wife into. Now that's jealousy. Funny thing is he was known in the Muggle world as a very discriminating art collector. Some Muggle-poet even wrote about him."
Ginny shook her head at Luna's bizarre tangent. "Well, then, even if you're right and Malfoy was just insanely jealous, do I really want to be with someone like that? I'd prefer not to end up as artwork, thank you."
"I doubt he'd ever turn you into art," Luna said, but the thoughtful look in her eyes betrayed the fact that she was pondering the question.
"In any case," Ginny cut in, "it doesn't matter how he feels about me. He can love me or hate me to his heart's content. I've chosen Harry, and I'm happy that way. And again, Harry must never know about any of this! It's not like I really cheated on him when I kissed Draco - I thought it was him!"
I did think it was Harry, didn't I? Ginny sighed. After she had received Harry's owl that morning after the Halloween Ball, a number of details about the night before stood out in her mind. Like how strangely attracted she'd been to her dance partner, and how differently she’d felt with him. And she had forced herself not to question it that night, just desperately wanting to feel that way again. She had wanted to feel with Harry the way she had with Draco.
Ginny's reverie and the two girls' squabble were interrupted by a rapidly approaching and wildy gesticulating Lizzie Pullman.
"Oh, Ginny. Oh, Luna," she panted as she reached them, clutching her chest with one hand and still waving the other excitedly.
"You okay, Lizzie?" Ginny asked.
"Never better," Lizzie panted. "In fact, I am THE GREATEST!" She drew the last two words out in a long shout that echoed across the frozen lake.
Ginny laughed. "How come?"
"I just earned my house ten points in Transfiguration," Lizzie replied smugly. "I turned a feather into a toothbrush on my first try, and the headmistress was so impressed, she gave Ravenclaw ten points. Kevin's never earned the house any points, and now he must bow down to me, for I. Am. The. Greatest!" Lizzie looked about one step removed from beating her chest in savage pride.
Luna and Ginny both laughed, their argument forgotten in the younger girl's triumphant joy.
"Ten points for our house," Luna said, "well done. I believe that puts us ahead of Gryffindor, doesn't it?"
The two Ravenclaws exchanged a smile and Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Congratulations, Lizzie," she said magnanimously.
"Oh, and that's not all I have to be glad about," Lizzie said. "Kevin and that horrid Hufflepuff finally broke up."
"The big pink bunny?" asked Ginny.
"The same. She was no good for my brother. Terribly jealous. Can you believe she thought Kevin fancied you, Ginny?"
"Oh, but that's ridiculous!"
"Exactly. But anytime Kevin talked about the summer, she'd get angry at him and accuse him of 'dwelling on you.' He finally got fed up with it, and dropped her."
"Well good for him. I hope he's not too upset about it."
"I don't think so - he seemed cheerier today than he has in weeks. We had a nice long chat about the summer, and about how glad we both are to be friends with you - no matter what horrible things brought us together."
"Aw, Lizzie, I feel the same way. You and Kevin are two of the best people I know."
"I do wish Malfoy could be at Hogwarts, too. I miss having him around."
Ginny was silent. Luna eyed her friend for a moment, and then decided to press the issue.
"So you liked Malfoy, did you?" she asked Lizzie hopefully.
"Not at first, of course," was the reply. "But after we got out of the dungeon, he really seemed to change. He was nice to me, most of the time. Never really in front of anyone else, though. I think he didn't want to get caught being friendly. It might have damaged his image or something." Lizzie was lost in memory for a moment. "Ginny, did you know he could tell stories, too?"
Ginny looked at the chubby blonde with curiosity. "What do you mean?" she asked finally, almost against her will.
"Well, after the story I told you guys, later that day, he came up to me and said he had thought of a story of his own. So I asked him to tell it and he did. I liked it."
"I wish I could have heard it," said Luna. "I can't imagine what kind of stories Malfoy could come up with."
"I remember it, mostly, if you want to hear it," said Lizzie.
"Yes," said Ginny quickly.
"Okay, but it isn't word for word. The story is about a goblin, back in the days when goblins and wizards were fighting and goblins lived in deep caves far away from any humans. There was a goblin prince, an evil, ugly creature, who liked to pull the wings off fairies and stomp on flowers. He hated everything and everyone, and all the other goblins hated him, too. One day, the horrid goblin prince was wandering in the thick forest when he got lost and couldn't find the way back to his cave. He walked for many days, traveling through valleys and over mountains, but he never saw anything that looked familiar. Finally, he decided to give up, and sat down on a tree stump to cry and feel sorry for himself. Because even though he hated his cave, at least it was home.
"While he was sitting on the stump sobbing his shriveled goblin heart out, a beautiful fairy princess approached him. She asked him why he was crying, and at first he told her to go away. But the fairy was kind and good, and couldn't leave a creature in pain, no matter how horrid that creature was. So she didn't leave the goblin prince alone; instead she sat down beside him and patted his shoulder until he stopped crying.
"Something about the beautiful fairy made the goblin prince tell her his problems - not just that he was lost, but that he hated everything and everyone, and everyone hated him, too. The fairy took pity on the goblin prince, and told him that if he could be nice to every living creature for ten whole days, he would magically find his home again, and be loved by those around him. The goblin prince didn’t know if she was telling the truth, but she seemed like an honest fairy, and he didn’t have anything to lose, so he agreed to her terms.
"He spent the next ten days with the beautiful fairy, and she showed him how to be nice to those around him. He found that it wasn't so hard or so horrible, and he also realized as the ten days were drawing to a close, that he had fallen in love with his fairy savior.
"The tenth day dawned, and the goblin was upset. He didn't want to be shown the way home because he knew it meant he'd have to leave the fairy princess. As the sun set, the fairy princess appeared before him, ready to fulfill the bargain, and he began to cry. Again, the fairy princess patted his shoulder until his tears were spent. When at last he looked at her, she told him that the bargain was already concluded - that he was home, and that his home was with her now. She told him that she loved him, too. And when the ugly goblin kissed his fairy princess, he was magically transformed into a handsome prince. The two were married and lived happily ever after. Isn't that a nice story for Malfoy to tell?" Lizzie concluded.
"A very nice story," said Luna with a smug smile. "I never thought he'd describe himself as ugly, but Ginny, you do make a lovely fairy princess. And I believe this counts as more evidence for my case."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ginny replied with a frown.
Luna made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like "Gack!"
"Stubborn and thick!" she exclaimed.
-----
Ron was waiting for her at the station, and Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been dreading her arrival since she boarded the Hogwarts Express, afraid that it would be Harry waiting for her, or even worse, Malfoy. Two people she wasn't ready to face yet. The Christmas holiday could not be over soon enough.
"Ron!" she shouted, throwing herself into her brother's arms. He hugged her back for a moment and then pulled away, wincing.
"Careful, Gin," he said. "War wounds, you know. They still get a bit ticklish."
"Oh, poor, brave darling," she said tenderly as Ron put on a noble, self-sacrificing expression. Ginny repressed a giggle.
"Can you tell me about it?" she asked.
"As soon as we're home - too risky out here, you know." Ron took up Ginny's trunk and the two walked side by side back to Grimmauld Place.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was abuzz with activity when the two youngest Weasleys walked in. Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the parlor to welcome her daughter home.
"You look wonderful, my dear! And you've arrived just in time to help with the decorating!" she said, wrapping Ginny in a big hug. Under her breath she murmured, "Drop your things upstairs and hurry back - Tonks has broken more ornaments than she's managed to get on the tree, and I'm feeling rather close to homicidal rage."
Ginny's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded once, moving to obey her mother's command.
On her way down the hall toward the stairs, her attention was arrested by the sound of a heated argument coming from the kitchen below. Curiosity compelled her to get closer, and she silently made her way to the kitchen, stopping just outside the door.
"I don't like it!" came Harry's voice, raised in anger. "Waiting is only going to give them a chance to strengthen their defenses!"
"That's a possibility, yes-" Ginny recognized this more hesitant, soothing voice as Lupin's.
"I, for one," interrupted a deep bass - definitely Shacklebolt, thought Ginny - "am inclined to agree with Malfoy. At this point He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is undoubtedly aware of our intentions, and the 'guards' he's sent to the Riddle House are likely as not a trap."
Agree with Malfoy? Ginny wondered.
"I also think Draco's probably right about Voldemort setting a trap for us," Hermione's distinct voice agreed. "But what choice do we have? Helga Hufflepuff's cup was seen there - we know that now for a fact. We have to see if we can find it and destroy it."
As interested as Ginny was in the conversation, a small part of her felt a momentary tinge of annoyance that Hermione referred to Malfoy as "Draco." The name sounded so intimate coming from Hermione.
"Well, then," came a soft drawl that sent a shiver up Ginny's spine, "it seems our only choice is to try to outsmart them - get into and out of the house without setting off whatever trap they're planning. But of course, if Potter prefers it, we could go rushing in like fools and take our chances."
At this point, the kitchen erupted in angry shouts as Harry began yelling at Malfoy, while others in room tried to bring about order. Ginny hurried away, her mind running over everything she had heard.
Part of her was elated at the thought that the Order sounded close to finding another of the horcruxes, even as she worried over the safety of her friends and family. Another part of her was surprised to hear Malfoy's voice among the rest, clearly enjoying a position of importance and acceptance in the group. A position Ginny herself had never been granted.
Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, Ginny turned her steps in the direction of her room.
-----
Christmas morning dawned and Ginny woke to sunlight streaming through the window and warming her cheeks. Added to the snugness of her blankets, Ginny felt cozy and contented, and she wondered if anyone would notice if she just spent the whole day basking in her warm bed.
The thought caused her to frown. Probably not, she sighed inwardly.
Ginny had felt practically invisible since her arrival two days ago. Hermione and Harry had enthusiastically greeted her, but had since lapsed into almost forgetfulness regarding her presence. The trio, along with almost everyone else in the house, spent most of their time in the kitchen, going over plans that Ginny was not privy to. Ginny had expected that she would get little attention from her friends and family at such a crucial time, and really, she did not begrudge them the secrets they kept in the name of the war effort, but she could not help feeling a little hurt at Harry's lack of interest in her. Besides a hug and sometimes an absent-minded peck on the cheek when he ran into her, Harry did not otherwise register Ginny's presence in the house. Even at mealtimes when everyone was gathered together around the great wooden table in the kitchen, his animated conversation was all reserved for Ron and Hermione. Ginny felt like she was once again relegated to the position of tag-along, except this time, she didn't even feel that hopeless hero-worshipping crush that used to sustain her.
I guess I shouldn't have been worried about spending so much time with Harry over the break after all, she thought ruefully. The same thought applied to her worries regarding Malfoy, who ignored her just as firmly as he had done over the summer. No word or glance from him had acknowledged his presence at the Halloween Ball, and Ginny had already given up trying to figure out what he was playing at.
Sighing, Ginny decided she had best get out of bed after all - there was no sense stewing all day, especially when it was Christmas. Pulling her bathrobe around her to keep out the chill, Ginny unwrapped the presents at the foot of her bed, smiling over the earrings from Harry and the copy of Chicken Soup for the Teenage Witch’s Soul from Hermione, who clearly still believed Ginny was depressed and in need of an inspirational read. Ginny's jumper from her mother turned out to be a deep purple this year, and Ginny found she actually rather liked the color. She slipped off her bathrobe and put the jumper on, smiling at the sight she must be making in her pinstriped cotton pajama bottoms, overlarge purple jumper and fuzzy red slippers.
Ah, but who will notice, anyway? she asked herself for the second time that morning, this time with a smile.
The question was a rhetorical one, but Ginny got an answer as soon as she stepped out into the hallway and collided with Malfoy.
"Sorry," she said, before realizing who she had bumped. Looking up into his eyes, she froze.
He had also stopped to stare at her, and Ginny could only imagine how hideous he found her with her hair all mussed from sleep and in her outfit.
Partially to distract him from his close scrutiny of her, she blurted out, "Happy Christmas, Draco."
He seemed startled at first that she had actually spoken to him, so long had a silence been maintained between them.
After a moment, his lip curled into a faint sneer. "The same to you, Weasley," he said, deliberately looking her up and down.
Ginny dropped her head, trying to hide her hurt expression from him.
Why did I even bother? she berated herself as she rushed passed him down the stairs.
-----
Ginny couldn't help but notice that everyone was tense and preoccupied all Christmas Day. Something was definitely going on. At dinner, conversation seemed forced, and the playful banter rang false. Mrs. Weasley was behaving particularly strangely, admonishing everyone to eat up so that they'd have lots of energy.
"Energy for what, Mum?" Ginny asked quietly.
"Why, for caroling after dinner, and all those Christmas crackers that still need pulling," her mother replied rapidly.
Ginny didn't buy it, but she held her tongue. With her family and some of the Order members, she sang along to rather off-key renditions of "We Saw Three Wizards Apparate In," "Joy to the (Wizarding) World" and the crude Hogwarts version of "Jingle Bells":
Jingle Bells,
Ravenclaw smells,
Hufflepuffs are wimps,
Gryffindors are prudish bores,
And Slytherins are whores and pimps, hey!
The song had apparently been the same even in her parents' time. Crackers pulled, a few games of Exploding Snaps, and suddenly everyone began yawning loudly.
"What a day!" said Mr. Weasley, stretching his arms. "Think I'll turn in now."
As if on cue, everyone else in the parlor, Ginny excepted, began to yawn and nod in agreement. Filing up the stairs in the mass exodus toward bed, Ginny wondered with a mental eye roll if she'd have to pretend to be fast asleep before everyone left on their "secret" mission. Sneakiness, she decided, was definitely not a talent possessed by most Order members. In fact, the only person who probably had sneaky down to an art form had absented himself from the after-dinner proceedings.
Just as well - Malfoy probably can't sing anyway.
-----
Ginny, determined to remain awake in order to hear what everyone was up to, woke up a number of hours later to the sound of anxious voices in the hallway outside her bedroom. Light shone under her door, and she could see the shadows of people passing back and forth. Quietly, she rose from bed and tiptoed to the door, opening it as slowly and gently as she could.
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed in a half-whisper. Ginny was surprised to see the puffy redness around Hermione's eyes and evident tear stains on her cheeks.
"What is it? What happened?" Ginny asked as her stomach knotted in sudden fear.
Hermione regarded her nervously. "It's nothing - I'm sorry I woke you," she replied with a slight hitch in her voice.
"Look, I know you went on a mission tonight. I'm guessing it was to the Riddle House to look for the Hufflepuff cup, so just tell me what's going on. Is someone hurt?"
Hermione, perhaps cowed by the steely tone of the younger girl or perhaps because she really did want to talk, nodded once. Without another word, Ginny drew her into her bedroom.
"So?" she asked quietly when they were both seated on the bed.
"No one's hurt, so you don't have to worry," - Ginny let out a great sigh of relief - "but you're right, we did go to the Riddle House to look for the cup. We figured the Death Eaters wouldn't expect us on Christmas." Hermione paused as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.
Ginny patted her hand awkwardly, waiting for her to continue when she was able.
"I'm so stupid!" Hermione blurted. "I always get worked up after a mission - it's just so hard seeing people hurt, even when they're evil and deserve it! And tonight - it was awful! The house was crawling with Death Eaters, and we had to fight, and poor Draco!"
Ginny suddenly gripped Hermione's hand painfully.
"What happened to him?" she breathed.
"His father was there, leading the other Death Eaters. We were all fighting and everyone got separated - I was helping Ron fight Avery on the other side of the room, and Draco had to fight all alone. Lucius used a Killing Curse, and Draco just blocked it in time, and then Draco hit him with his own spell - I think it was a Body-Bind, I'm not sure - but it was really powerful, and Lucius was thrown across the room. He hit his head, Ginny, on the corner of the fireplace mantle. He hit his head so hard I heard it! And then he just fell to the floor, and there was blood everywhere, all over him, all around him. We had to keep fighting, but pretty soon most of the other Death Eaters apparated out. We managed to capture a couple. When we got over to Lucius, though, we realized that he wasn't just stunned. He was dead."
"Oh, no!" Ginny exclaimed, covering her gaping mouth with one hand.
"It was an accident! I know Draco didn't mean to kill him. I saw him cast a non-lethal spell. And I know I shouldn't be crying over that worthless, horrible excuse for a human being . . . and can you imagine how Draco's feeling right now? I mean, killing his own father!"
"Where is he?" Ginny asked, standing.
"He went straight to his room. He didn't talk to any of us after it happened, he just stood there, looking at him." Hermione was still shaking her head and wiping away tears as Ginny exited the room.
She went to Draco's room at the end of the hall and entered without knocking. It was only after she silently shut the door behind her and stood in the darkened room that she wondered what she was doing, and what she would say.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, and in the dim moonlight she distinguished Draco sitting at the end of the bed, his head bowed and a bottle of firewhisky clutched in one hand that hung between his knees. He didn't appear aware of her presence.
Quickly, Ginny crossed the space between them and crouched down beside him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek.
"Draco?" she asked hesitantly.
Draco hissed and jerked back out of her reach.
"Why are you here?" he demanded.
"I . . . I-"
"Let me guess. Have you come to comfort me?" Draco spat, grabbing Ginny's wrist and pulling her toward him. "Ha! How will you do it, Ginny? How do you make precious Potter feel better?"
He stood, tossing aside the firewhisky bottle and roughly hauled Ginny to her feet.
"Do you comfort him like this, Ginny?" he demanded, pushing her onto the bed and pinning her wrists above her head. "Does this help ease his pain?" His mouth closed over hers in a painful kiss. Ginny tasted blood in her mouth and struggled to free herself.
"Perhaps, when Potter is really feeling low, you sooth him in other ways," Draco hissed into her ear, releasing her wrists to begin tearing at the buttons of her thin cotton pajama top. Ginny balled her fists and pummeled Draco in the shoulders and neck, trying to fend him off.
"No, Draco, no!" she shouted at him.
"Stupid, stupid girl," he laughed, covering her neck in bruising kisses. "Didn't you know it's no use pleading with me? Didn't they tell you what I am?" He drew himself up onto his knees and gripped her shoulders, shaking her with each word to emphasize what he was saying. "I am a killer. A murderer. And you, Ginny dear, were wrong about me."
Tears stung Ginny's eyes and her vision swam as she looked up at Draco's rage-filled face.
"Draco, please," she whimpered, unsure of what she was pleading for.
He released her suddenly and stood up.
"Get out," he said through clenched teeth.
Ginny sat up to look at him, but didn't otherwise move.
"Didn't you hear me? I said GET OUT!" he raged at her, hauling her up by the collar of her top and shoving her toward the door. He pushed her through it and slammed it behind her.
Ginny stood for a moment, her breath hitching as she tried to get control over it. A burning sensation was building up in her chest. Holding her torn pajama top closed around her, Ginny began to run, down the stairs, through the entrance hall, and out the front door.
A blast of cold air hit her as she stepped into the dark winter night, but Ginny paid no attention to it. She ran and ran through deserted streets, past darkened houses, through the yellow pools of light that collected on the snow beneath the street lamps. She ran until her lungs felt like bursting, and then she collapsed onto a bench at the entrance to a small park.
The cold seeped into Ginny's skin, numbing her fingers and the tips of her ears as she sat frozen in place. Her tears had long since dried, leaving her feeling empty inside.
Why? she asked herself. Why do I keep letting him hurt me like this? Why do I suffer over and over again for him, because of him? And why do I love him so much? Gods, I don't want to! I chose Harry!
"I love Harry!" she shouted defiantly into the ice-crusted trees. Tears came again at this point, and Ginny buried her head in her hands and sobbed, not caring how loud she was being. All of the moments she had shared with the two men played through her mind randomly - her first kiss with Harry followed by her first kiss with Draco, a light caress from one, a shared laugh with the other - it was a hopeless jumble, a tangled mess.
When her tears were once more spent, she was able to think more clearly about what had just happened between her and Draco. What hurt most was the hate she saw in his eyes.
Is that how he really feels about me then? Was I foolish enough to believe Luna, to secretly hope that underneath everything he actually loved me? All this time I've been lying to myself, telling myself that he didn't matter, that Harry was the only one I loved. And he hates me, just like he made so clear last summer.
Ginny squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the painful thought.
And still I love him. And Gods, how he needs someone right now! He's not a murderer, but he'll never believe it.
Despite everything that had just passed between Ginny and Draco, despite his cruelty to her, she wished she was holding him right then, helping him fight his demons.
Ginny lay down on the park bench, the image of Draco's head in her lap as she stroked his forehead soothing her and dulling her heartache. She barely felt the cold anymore.
-----
Rough hands lifted her up and she was dimly aware of being cradled in someone's arms.
So cold, she thought, struggling toward consciousness.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sorry," she heard a voice whisper before all was blackness and oblivion once again.
More voices broke through her consciousness.
". . . found her . . ."
". . . lucky to be alive . . ."
". . . freeze to death . . ."
". . . thank you, Draco . . ."
". . . sleep draught . . ."
". . . my poor baby . . ."
". . . was she thinking . . ."
And then quiet.
At some point later on Ginny realized that she was conscious, but that she couldn't see anything, or move.
A sleeping potion, she thought. She was having a bad reaction to it. It was at this point that Ginny realized someone was talking to her.
". . . so sorry, Ginny! This is all my fault. I know I haven't been paying enough attention to you. I promise, though, that I'm going to make it up to you. As soon as this war's over, everything will be great. We'll get married and build a house right near the Burrow, and we'll all be a big, happy family together. You and I, and Ron and Hermione, we'll always be together. It will be so perfect. Soon, Ginny, soon."
Mentally, Ginny retreated from the sound of Harry's voice, not feeling capable of dealing with what he was saying.
She became conscious again later to the sound of a very different voice.
"What were you thinking, Ginny? You could have died out there! And why do I have to care, damn it? Why have you done this to me? Why must I continue to love you? Gods, I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny? I loved you! I would have gone to the ends of the world for you, defied heaven and hell for you! I would have done anything you asked of me! I would have been with you always. And you - you gave me up for that shallow love of Potter's? Why, Ginny? Nothing could have ever separated us, but you did it of your own free will!"
It was a voice barely above a whisper, but the pain and rage in it tore through Ginny like the blade of a knife.
As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!
Chapter 9 - Christmas Confessions
"You're quite stubborn, you realize, right?"
Ginny huffed in exasperation at her companion, annoyed that she was bringing the subject up. Again.
"Oh, I'm stubborn?" she shot back. "I'd say the definition of stubborn is believing something despite mounds and mounds of incontrovertible evidence pointing to the fact that you're wrong. That seems a bit stubborn to me."
"Oh, facts," Luna replied with a dismissive wave of one mittened hand. "Daddy says facts are for people of little faith. And besides, if you want to talk about evidence, there's plenty to back my argument, if you ask me."
"Well, for one thing, I didn't ask you now that you mention it, and for another, your interpretation" - Ginny placed heavy emphasis on the word - "of the evidence is completely wrong."
Luna raised an eyebrow at her friend and for a moment, the only sound was the crunch of snow under their boots as they trod their way around the lake.
"Ginny," she said finally, an almost pleading note in her voice, "just think about it. Why would Malfoy have come to the ball if he didn't have feelings for you?"
"As I've said about a million times now, I'm sure he did it as part of the game he's playing with me. He thinks it's great fun to make me miserable."
"If he really wanted to make you miserable, he could have picked lots of easier ways to do it. He could have said something to Harry or your family, for one thing."
Ginny found herself sincerely wishing she hadn't told Luna everything that had happened between her and Draco. If she'd kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't have had to argue about him every day for nearly the last six weeks.
"Luna! He told me himself that it was a game! What more proof of his intentions do you need?" Ginny kicked at a snowdrift angrily.
"Right. He told you he didn't have feelings for you after he found you snogging Harry. And you can't think of any reason why he might, at that moment - when you had just betrayed him - say hurtful things to you? How are you getting such high marks in all your classes? That's a mystery even worthy of the Quibbler."
Ginny had a sudden urge to push her friend into the lake. "It wasn't just the words, Luna," she said icily. "He never gave me the chance to explain. He ignored me for the rest of the summer. He wouldn't even look at me. If he really had feelings for me, wouldn't he have tried to find out what happened? Maybe trusted me a little? Wouldn't he at least have heard me out before casting me off like complete garbage?"
"Oh, Ginny," Luna said softly. "He isn't very nice, is he? We're clearly not working with perfect material here. But he doesn't need to be perfect to love you. And at least he's not quite as bad as the evil sorcerer Ferrara. Legend has it that he caught his first wife just looking at another man and had her transfigured into a painting. His second wife apparently spoke too kindly to a gardener and she was transfigured into a statue. I can't remember what he turned his third wife into. Now that's jealousy. Funny thing is he was known in the Muggle world as a very discriminating art collector. Some Muggle-poet even wrote about him."
Ginny shook her head at Luna's bizarre tangent. "Well, then, even if you're right and Malfoy was just insanely jealous, do I really want to be with someone like that? I'd prefer not to end up as artwork, thank you."
"I doubt he'd ever turn you into art," Luna said, but the thoughtful look in her eyes betrayed the fact that she was pondering the question.
"In any case," Ginny cut in, "it doesn't matter how he feels about me. He can love me or hate me to his heart's content. I've chosen Harry, and I'm happy that way. And again, Harry must never know about any of this! It's not like I really cheated on him when I kissed Draco - I thought it was him!"
I did think it was Harry, didn't I? Ginny sighed. After she had received Harry's owl that morning after the Halloween Ball, a number of details about the night before stood out in her mind. Like how strangely attracted she'd been to her dance partner, and how differently she’d felt with him. And she had forced herself not to question it that night, just desperately wanting to feel that way again. She had wanted to feel with Harry the way she had with Draco.
Ginny's reverie and the two girls' squabble were interrupted by a rapidly approaching and wildy gesticulating Lizzie Pullman.
"Oh, Ginny. Oh, Luna," she panted as she reached them, clutching her chest with one hand and still waving the other excitedly.
"You okay, Lizzie?" Ginny asked.
"Never better," Lizzie panted. "In fact, I am THE GREATEST!" She drew the last two words out in a long shout that echoed across the frozen lake.
Ginny laughed. "How come?"
"I just earned my house ten points in Transfiguration," Lizzie replied smugly. "I turned a feather into a toothbrush on my first try, and the headmistress was so impressed, she gave Ravenclaw ten points. Kevin's never earned the house any points, and now he must bow down to me, for I. Am. The. Greatest!" Lizzie looked about one step removed from beating her chest in savage pride.
Luna and Ginny both laughed, their argument forgotten in the younger girl's triumphant joy.
"Ten points for our house," Luna said, "well done. I believe that puts us ahead of Gryffindor, doesn't it?"
The two Ravenclaws exchanged a smile and Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Congratulations, Lizzie," she said magnanimously.
"Oh, and that's not all I have to be glad about," Lizzie said. "Kevin and that horrid Hufflepuff finally broke up."
"The big pink bunny?" asked Ginny.
"The same. She was no good for my brother. Terribly jealous. Can you believe she thought Kevin fancied you, Ginny?"
"Oh, but that's ridiculous!"
"Exactly. But anytime Kevin talked about the summer, she'd get angry at him and accuse him of 'dwelling on you.' He finally got fed up with it, and dropped her."
"Well good for him. I hope he's not too upset about it."
"I don't think so - he seemed cheerier today than he has in weeks. We had a nice long chat about the summer, and about how glad we both are to be friends with you - no matter what horrible things brought us together."
"Aw, Lizzie, I feel the same way. You and Kevin are two of the best people I know."
"I do wish Malfoy could be at Hogwarts, too. I miss having him around."
Ginny was silent. Luna eyed her friend for a moment, and then decided to press the issue.
"So you liked Malfoy, did you?" she asked Lizzie hopefully.
"Not at first, of course," was the reply. "But after we got out of the dungeon, he really seemed to change. He was nice to me, most of the time. Never really in front of anyone else, though. I think he didn't want to get caught being friendly. It might have damaged his image or something." Lizzie was lost in memory for a moment. "Ginny, did you know he could tell stories, too?"
Ginny looked at the chubby blonde with curiosity. "What do you mean?" she asked finally, almost against her will.
"Well, after the story I told you guys, later that day, he came up to me and said he had thought of a story of his own. So I asked him to tell it and he did. I liked it."
"I wish I could have heard it," said Luna. "I can't imagine what kind of stories Malfoy could come up with."
"I remember it, mostly, if you want to hear it," said Lizzie.
"Yes," said Ginny quickly.
"Okay, but it isn't word for word. The story is about a goblin, back in the days when goblins and wizards were fighting and goblins lived in deep caves far away from any humans. There was a goblin prince, an evil, ugly creature, who liked to pull the wings off fairies and stomp on flowers. He hated everything and everyone, and all the other goblins hated him, too. One day, the horrid goblin prince was wandering in the thick forest when he got lost and couldn't find the way back to his cave. He walked for many days, traveling through valleys and over mountains, but he never saw anything that looked familiar. Finally, he decided to give up, and sat down on a tree stump to cry and feel sorry for himself. Because even though he hated his cave, at least it was home.
"While he was sitting on the stump sobbing his shriveled goblin heart out, a beautiful fairy princess approached him. She asked him why he was crying, and at first he told her to go away. But the fairy was kind and good, and couldn't leave a creature in pain, no matter how horrid that creature was. So she didn't leave the goblin prince alone; instead she sat down beside him and patted his shoulder until he stopped crying.
"Something about the beautiful fairy made the goblin prince tell her his problems - not just that he was lost, but that he hated everything and everyone, and everyone hated him, too. The fairy took pity on the goblin prince, and told him that if he could be nice to every living creature for ten whole days, he would magically find his home again, and be loved by those around him. The goblin prince didn’t know if she was telling the truth, but she seemed like an honest fairy, and he didn’t have anything to lose, so he agreed to her terms.
"He spent the next ten days with the beautiful fairy, and she showed him how to be nice to those around him. He found that it wasn't so hard or so horrible, and he also realized as the ten days were drawing to a close, that he had fallen in love with his fairy savior.
"The tenth day dawned, and the goblin was upset. He didn't want to be shown the way home because he knew it meant he'd have to leave the fairy princess. As the sun set, the fairy princess appeared before him, ready to fulfill the bargain, and he began to cry. Again, the fairy princess patted his shoulder until his tears were spent. When at last he looked at her, she told him that the bargain was already concluded - that he was home, and that his home was with her now. She told him that she loved him, too. And when the ugly goblin kissed his fairy princess, he was magically transformed into a handsome prince. The two were married and lived happily ever after. Isn't that a nice story for Malfoy to tell?" Lizzie concluded.
"A very nice story," said Luna with a smug smile. "I never thought he'd describe himself as ugly, but Ginny, you do make a lovely fairy princess. And I believe this counts as more evidence for my case."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ginny replied with a frown.
Luna made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like "Gack!"
"Stubborn and thick!" she exclaimed.
Ron was waiting for her at the station, and Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been dreading her arrival since she boarded the Hogwarts Express, afraid that it would be Harry waiting for her, or even worse, Malfoy. Two people she wasn't ready to face yet. The Christmas holiday could not be over soon enough.
"Ron!" she shouted, throwing herself into her brother's arms. He hugged her back for a moment and then pulled away, wincing.
"Careful, Gin," he said. "War wounds, you know. They still get a bit ticklish."
"Oh, poor, brave darling," she said tenderly as Ron put on a noble, self-sacrificing expression. Ginny repressed a giggle.
"Can you tell me about it?" she asked.
"As soon as we're home - too risky out here, you know." Ron took up Ginny's trunk and the two walked side by side back to Grimmauld Place.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was abuzz with activity when the two youngest Weasleys walked in. Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the parlor to welcome her daughter home.
"You look wonderful, my dear! And you've arrived just in time to help with the decorating!" she said, wrapping Ginny in a big hug. Under her breath she murmured, "Drop your things upstairs and hurry back - Tonks has broken more ornaments than she's managed to get on the tree, and I'm feeling rather close to homicidal rage."
Ginny's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded once, moving to obey her mother's command.
On her way down the hall toward the stairs, her attention was arrested by the sound of a heated argument coming from the kitchen below. Curiosity compelled her to get closer, and she silently made her way to the kitchen, stopping just outside the door.
"I don't like it!" came Harry's voice, raised in anger. "Waiting is only going to give them a chance to strengthen their defenses!"
"That's a possibility, yes-" Ginny recognized this more hesitant, soothing voice as Lupin's.
"I, for one," interrupted a deep bass - definitely Shacklebolt, thought Ginny - "am inclined to agree with Malfoy. At this point He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is undoubtedly aware of our intentions, and the 'guards' he's sent to the Riddle House are likely as not a trap."
Agree with Malfoy? Ginny wondered.
"I also think Draco's probably right about Voldemort setting a trap for us," Hermione's distinct voice agreed. "But what choice do we have? Helga Hufflepuff's cup was seen there - we know that now for a fact. We have to see if we can find it and destroy it."
As interested as Ginny was in the conversation, a small part of her felt a momentary tinge of annoyance that Hermione referred to Malfoy as "Draco." The name sounded so intimate coming from Hermione.
"Well, then," came a soft drawl that sent a shiver up Ginny's spine, "it seems our only choice is to try to outsmart them - get into and out of the house without setting off whatever trap they're planning. But of course, if Potter prefers it, we could go rushing in like fools and take our chances."
At this point, the kitchen erupted in angry shouts as Harry began yelling at Malfoy, while others in room tried to bring about order. Ginny hurried away, her mind running over everything she had heard.
Part of her was elated at the thought that the Order sounded close to finding another of the horcruxes, even as she worried over the safety of her friends and family. Another part of her was surprised to hear Malfoy's voice among the rest, clearly enjoying a position of importance and acceptance in the group. A position Ginny herself had never been granted.
Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, Ginny turned her steps in the direction of her room.
Christmas morning dawned and Ginny woke to sunlight streaming through the window and warming her cheeks. Added to the snugness of her blankets, Ginny felt cozy and contented, and she wondered if anyone would notice if she just spent the whole day basking in her warm bed.
The thought caused her to frown. Probably not, she sighed inwardly.
Ginny had felt practically invisible since her arrival two days ago. Hermione and Harry had enthusiastically greeted her, but had since lapsed into almost forgetfulness regarding her presence. The trio, along with almost everyone else in the house, spent most of their time in the kitchen, going over plans that Ginny was not privy to. Ginny had expected that she would get little attention from her friends and family at such a crucial time, and really, she did not begrudge them the secrets they kept in the name of the war effort, but she could not help feeling a little hurt at Harry's lack of interest in her. Besides a hug and sometimes an absent-minded peck on the cheek when he ran into her, Harry did not otherwise register Ginny's presence in the house. Even at mealtimes when everyone was gathered together around the great wooden table in the kitchen, his animated conversation was all reserved for Ron and Hermione. Ginny felt like she was once again relegated to the position of tag-along, except this time, she didn't even feel that hopeless hero-worshipping crush that used to sustain her.
I guess I shouldn't have been worried about spending so much time with Harry over the break after all, she thought ruefully. The same thought applied to her worries regarding Malfoy, who ignored her just as firmly as he had done over the summer. No word or glance from him had acknowledged his presence at the Halloween Ball, and Ginny had already given up trying to figure out what he was playing at.
Sighing, Ginny decided she had best get out of bed after all - there was no sense stewing all day, especially when it was Christmas. Pulling her bathrobe around her to keep out the chill, Ginny unwrapped the presents at the foot of her bed, smiling over the earrings from Harry and the copy of Chicken Soup for the Teenage Witch’s Soul from Hermione, who clearly still believed Ginny was depressed and in need of an inspirational read. Ginny's jumper from her mother turned out to be a deep purple this year, and Ginny found she actually rather liked the color. She slipped off her bathrobe and put the jumper on, smiling at the sight she must be making in her pinstriped cotton pajama bottoms, overlarge purple jumper and fuzzy red slippers.
Ah, but who will notice, anyway? she asked herself for the second time that morning, this time with a smile.
The question was a rhetorical one, but Ginny got an answer as soon as she stepped out into the hallway and collided with Malfoy.
"Sorry," she said, before realizing who she had bumped. Looking up into his eyes, she froze.
He had also stopped to stare at her, and Ginny could only imagine how hideous he found her with her hair all mussed from sleep and in her outfit.
Partially to distract him from his close scrutiny of her, she blurted out, "Happy Christmas, Draco."
He seemed startled at first that she had actually spoken to him, so long had a silence been maintained between them.
After a moment, his lip curled into a faint sneer. "The same to you, Weasley," he said, deliberately looking her up and down.
Ginny dropped her head, trying to hide her hurt expression from him.
Why did I even bother? she berated herself as she rushed passed him down the stairs.
Ginny couldn't help but notice that everyone was tense and preoccupied all Christmas Day. Something was definitely going on. At dinner, conversation seemed forced, and the playful banter rang false. Mrs. Weasley was behaving particularly strangely, admonishing everyone to eat up so that they'd have lots of energy.
"Energy for what, Mum?" Ginny asked quietly.
"Why, for caroling after dinner, and all those Christmas crackers that still need pulling," her mother replied rapidly.
Ginny didn't buy it, but she held her tongue. With her family and some of the Order members, she sang along to rather off-key renditions of "We Saw Three Wizards Apparate In," "Joy to the (Wizarding) World" and the crude Hogwarts version of "Jingle Bells":
Jingle Bells,
Ravenclaw smells,
Hufflepuffs are wimps,
Gryffindors are prudish bores,
And Slytherins are whores and pimps, hey!
The song had apparently been the same even in her parents' time. Crackers pulled, a few games of Exploding Snaps, and suddenly everyone began yawning loudly.
"What a day!" said Mr. Weasley, stretching his arms. "Think I'll turn in now."
As if on cue, everyone else in the parlor, Ginny excepted, began to yawn and nod in agreement. Filing up the stairs in the mass exodus toward bed, Ginny wondered with a mental eye roll if she'd have to pretend to be fast asleep before everyone left on their "secret" mission. Sneakiness, she decided, was definitely not a talent possessed by most Order members. In fact, the only person who probably had sneaky down to an art form had absented himself from the after-dinner proceedings.
Just as well - Malfoy probably can't sing anyway.
Ginny, determined to remain awake in order to hear what everyone was up to, woke up a number of hours later to the sound of anxious voices in the hallway outside her bedroom. Light shone under her door, and she could see the shadows of people passing back and forth. Quietly, she rose from bed and tiptoed to the door, opening it as slowly and gently as she could.
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed in a half-whisper. Ginny was surprised to see the puffy redness around Hermione's eyes and evident tear stains on her cheeks.
"What is it? What happened?" Ginny asked as her stomach knotted in sudden fear.
Hermione regarded her nervously. "It's nothing - I'm sorry I woke you," she replied with a slight hitch in her voice.
"Look, I know you went on a mission tonight. I'm guessing it was to the Riddle House to look for the Hufflepuff cup, so just tell me what's going on. Is someone hurt?"
Hermione, perhaps cowed by the steely tone of the younger girl or perhaps because she really did want to talk, nodded once. Without another word, Ginny drew her into her bedroom.
"So?" she asked quietly when they were both seated on the bed.
"No one's hurt, so you don't have to worry," - Ginny let out a great sigh of relief - "but you're right, we did go to the Riddle House to look for the cup. We figured the Death Eaters wouldn't expect us on Christmas." Hermione paused as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.
Ginny patted her hand awkwardly, waiting for her to continue when she was able.
"I'm so stupid!" Hermione blurted. "I always get worked up after a mission - it's just so hard seeing people hurt, even when they're evil and deserve it! And tonight - it was awful! The house was crawling with Death Eaters, and we had to fight, and poor Draco!"
Ginny suddenly gripped Hermione's hand painfully.
"What happened to him?" she breathed.
"His father was there, leading the other Death Eaters. We were all fighting and everyone got separated - I was helping Ron fight Avery on the other side of the room, and Draco had to fight all alone. Lucius used a Killing Curse, and Draco just blocked it in time, and then Draco hit him with his own spell - I think it was a Body-Bind, I'm not sure - but it was really powerful, and Lucius was thrown across the room. He hit his head, Ginny, on the corner of the fireplace mantle. He hit his head so hard I heard it! And then he just fell to the floor, and there was blood everywhere, all over him, all around him. We had to keep fighting, but pretty soon most of the other Death Eaters apparated out. We managed to capture a couple. When we got over to Lucius, though, we realized that he wasn't just stunned. He was dead."
"Oh, no!" Ginny exclaimed, covering her gaping mouth with one hand.
"It was an accident! I know Draco didn't mean to kill him. I saw him cast a non-lethal spell. And I know I shouldn't be crying over that worthless, horrible excuse for a human being . . . and can you imagine how Draco's feeling right now? I mean, killing his own father!"
"Where is he?" Ginny asked, standing.
"He went straight to his room. He didn't talk to any of us after it happened, he just stood there, looking at him." Hermione was still shaking her head and wiping away tears as Ginny exited the room.
She went to Draco's room at the end of the hall and entered without knocking. It was only after she silently shut the door behind her and stood in the darkened room that she wondered what she was doing, and what she would say.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, and in the dim moonlight she distinguished Draco sitting at the end of the bed, his head bowed and a bottle of firewhisky clutched in one hand that hung between his knees. He didn't appear aware of her presence.
Quickly, Ginny crossed the space between them and crouched down beside him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek.
"Draco?" she asked hesitantly.
Draco hissed and jerked back out of her reach.
"Why are you here?" he demanded.
"I . . . I-"
"Let me guess. Have you come to comfort me?" Draco spat, grabbing Ginny's wrist and pulling her toward him. "Ha! How will you do it, Ginny? How do you make precious Potter feel better?"
He stood, tossing aside the firewhisky bottle and roughly hauled Ginny to her feet.
"Do you comfort him like this, Ginny?" he demanded, pushing her onto the bed and pinning her wrists above her head. "Does this help ease his pain?" His mouth closed over hers in a painful kiss. Ginny tasted blood in her mouth and struggled to free herself.
"Perhaps, when Potter is really feeling low, you sooth him in other ways," Draco hissed into her ear, releasing her wrists to begin tearing at the buttons of her thin cotton pajama top. Ginny balled her fists and pummeled Draco in the shoulders and neck, trying to fend him off.
"No, Draco, no!" she shouted at him.
"Stupid, stupid girl," he laughed, covering her neck in bruising kisses. "Didn't you know it's no use pleading with me? Didn't they tell you what I am?" He drew himself up onto his knees and gripped her shoulders, shaking her with each word to emphasize what he was saying. "I am a killer. A murderer. And you, Ginny dear, were wrong about me."
Tears stung Ginny's eyes and her vision swam as she looked up at Draco's rage-filled face.
"Draco, please," she whimpered, unsure of what she was pleading for.
He released her suddenly and stood up.
"Get out," he said through clenched teeth.
Ginny sat up to look at him, but didn't otherwise move.
"Didn't you hear me? I said GET OUT!" he raged at her, hauling her up by the collar of her top and shoving her toward the door. He pushed her through it and slammed it behind her.
Ginny stood for a moment, her breath hitching as she tried to get control over it. A burning sensation was building up in her chest. Holding her torn pajama top closed around her, Ginny began to run, down the stairs, through the entrance hall, and out the front door.
A blast of cold air hit her as she stepped into the dark winter night, but Ginny paid no attention to it. She ran and ran through deserted streets, past darkened houses, through the yellow pools of light that collected on the snow beneath the street lamps. She ran until her lungs felt like bursting, and then she collapsed onto a bench at the entrance to a small park.
The cold seeped into Ginny's skin, numbing her fingers and the tips of her ears as she sat frozen in place. Her tears had long since dried, leaving her feeling empty inside.
Why? she asked herself. Why do I keep letting him hurt me like this? Why do I suffer over and over again for him, because of him? And why do I love him so much? Gods, I don't want to! I chose Harry!
"I love Harry!" she shouted defiantly into the ice-crusted trees. Tears came again at this point, and Ginny buried her head in her hands and sobbed, not caring how loud she was being. All of the moments she had shared with the two men played through her mind randomly - her first kiss with Harry followed by her first kiss with Draco, a light caress from one, a shared laugh with the other - it was a hopeless jumble, a tangled mess.
When her tears were once more spent, she was able to think more clearly about what had just happened between her and Draco. What hurt most was the hate she saw in his eyes.
Is that how he really feels about me then? Was I foolish enough to believe Luna, to secretly hope that underneath everything he actually loved me? All this time I've been lying to myself, telling myself that he didn't matter, that Harry was the only one I loved. And he hates me, just like he made so clear last summer.
Ginny squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the painful thought.
And still I love him. And Gods, how he needs someone right now! He's not a murderer, but he'll never believe it.
Despite everything that had just passed between Ginny and Draco, despite his cruelty to her, she wished she was holding him right then, helping him fight his demons.
Ginny lay down on the park bench, the image of Draco's head in her lap as she stroked his forehead soothing her and dulling her heartache. She barely felt the cold anymore.
Rough hands lifted her up and she was dimly aware of being cradled in someone's arms.
So cold, she thought, struggling toward consciousness.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sorry," she heard a voice whisper before all was blackness and oblivion once again.
More voices broke through her consciousness.
". . . found her . . ."
". . . lucky to be alive . . ."
". . . freeze to death . . ."
". . . thank you, Draco . . ."
". . . sleep draught . . ."
". . . my poor baby . . ."
". . . was she thinking . . ."
And then quiet.
At some point later on Ginny realized that she was conscious, but that she couldn't see anything, or move.
A sleeping potion, she thought. She was having a bad reaction to it. It was at this point that Ginny realized someone was talking to her.
". . . so sorry, Ginny! This is all my fault. I know I haven't been paying enough attention to you. I promise, though, that I'm going to make it up to you. As soon as this war's over, everything will be great. We'll get married and build a house right near the Burrow, and we'll all be a big, happy family together. You and I, and Ron and Hermione, we'll always be together. It will be so perfect. Soon, Ginny, soon."
Mentally, Ginny retreated from the sound of Harry's voice, not feeling capable of dealing with what he was saying.
She became conscious again later to the sound of a very different voice.
"What were you thinking, Ginny? You could have died out there! And why do I have to care, damn it? Why have you done this to me? Why must I continue to love you? Gods, I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny? I loved you! I would have gone to the ends of the world for you, defied heaven and hell for you! I would have done anything you asked of me! I would have been with you always. And you - you gave me up for that shallow love of Potter's? Why, Ginny? Nothing could have ever separated us, but you did it of your own free will!"
It was a voice barely above a whisper, but the pain and rage in it tore through Ginny like the blade of a knife.
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