It was nearly December now, and she wasn't feeling much better. She hadn't spoken many people, other than Hermione and Ron, who was adamantly trying to figure out why Ginny and Harry had broken up for good. Using incomplete information from herself and Harry, she figured that Ron hadn't been able to come up with any very conclusive explanations. She didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that Harry did not want to tell Ron how badly he had hurt his little sister. Because of his embarrassment, it hadn't been quite as difficult to avoid Harry as she thought it would have been.
Avoiding Draco was a much heftier task, and it was one that she felt quite guilty about. He had been so good to her that day, holding her against him as she cried beneath her favorite spot by the lake. He warmed her body by holding her close, and he warmed her soul by simply being there. Though she never said it, she appreciated greatly that he had demanded nothing from her. He asked for no explanations, nor had he demanded any answers. No. He had just been what she needed - a friend.
And yet, for reasons that even she was unable to decipher, she had been deliberately avoiding him - like the plague, in fact. When she would see him in the hallways, she would latch on to the closest person that she knew and pretend to be discussing something important. In Potions, she had begun partnering with Hermione, which was something that Ron was not terribly thrilled about. During meal times, she would come in late, determine where he was sitting, and deliberately make sure that she chose a seat that was nowhere near his line of vision. It was positively juvenile behavior, she knew, and it was ridiculously unreasonable. There was no reason for her to treat someone who had been so good to her this way.
Marching into the common room after dinner, she tossed herself onto her favorite sofa by the fireplace. It was much too dark and cold to sit outside anymore, so she had been resigning herself to remain where Draco could not approach her. Unfortunately, this spot did not allow her complete privacy. In fact, she was left much more alone when she sat beneath her tree where most people assumed she had purposely sat alone.
The couch gave way under someone's weight, and Ginny glanced to her left. Neville sat beside her, smiling gaily in the firelight.
"Hullo, Gin!" he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Ginny smiled despite herself and leaned into his welcoming arm. Neville had turned into being just like another brother to her, as if she needed more of them. He was protective and sweet, and she loved him dearly, and yet he was able to annoy her with the best of them. Sometimes, though, she preferred to talk to him over some of her real brothers. She found that over the last few weeks, he had been the only person who had been able to put a smile on her face.
"What's the matter, love?" Neville asked, planting a kiss at the top of her head.
She considered not speaking, but decided not to. Her friend was much too good to her for her to give the silent treatment. "I'm just thinking," she replied. Ginny knew the statement was vague, but she really hoped that he would get the hint and not press her forward.
Her hopes were left unanswered. "What are you thinking about?"
A deep sigh escaped her lips before a sudden thought entered her mind. Sitting up, she looked at Neville and said, "Nev, you're a guy, right?"
He blinked twice before nodding. "Oh, well spotted, Gin."
She smacked him playfully. "Seriously, I want to know something. From the perspective of a guy, is there something wrong with me? Is there something," she paused, "unappealing about me?"
"You're beautiful, Ginny. You know that."
"That's not what I mean. I mean, am I not worth... waiting for?" Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized there was a chance that Neville might not know what she was talking about.
"You mean..." he trailed off, flushing a light pink himself.
She nodded. "I mean, I know you don't think of me that way, exactly. But is there something wrong with me that would make a guy not want to wait for me?"
He kissed her cheek. "Ginny, you are, without a doubt, one of the nicest, smartest, and most beautiful girls in this school. If there is someone who thinks you aren't worth the world, give me their name, and I will gladly allow them to... hex me to death while I attempt to defend your honor." At her smile, he pulled her in for a closer hug. "I love you, Ginbug. You're the sister I never had."
And once again, a guy who was not Harry or Ron was there to make her feel better.
That evening at dinner, she sat beside Neville and Seamus. She was several seats away from the trio, and yet she allowed herself to be perfectly within Draco's line of vision. Immediately, she noticed that he was staring at her, and she actually felt herself flush as his smoldering eyes bore into her.
After an hour of picking on Neville good-naturedly and listening to the dirty jokes that Seamus had shared, Ginny found herself walking away from the Great Hall in a better mood than she had been for weeks. She wandered around aimlessly, finding herself on the seventh floor, standing before a door.
She knew it was the Room of Requirement, but by no means had she realized that there was something that she had needed. She found it odd that the door had appeared before her so easily, so freely, and she faltered a moment before she made the decision to go in.
The room looked the same as it had the last time she had been there, when she had woken up from her drunken night alone. She never questioned why Draco had left her alone, but it was something that plagued her. She decided then that, if she ever spoke to Draco again, she would ask him why.
The two sofas sat before the same dimly-lit fireplace, and the same white fleece blanket sat upon the one that she had previously slept on. It struck her as odd that it had returned there, but she assumed that it was something that appeared because it belonged to the room.
One difference, she noted. The portrait leading to Hogsmeade was missing, which meant that she couldn't use the room as a means to escape at the moment. Apparently, that meant that whatever she needed was already in the room. There had to be, or else the door would not have appeared before her.
"I was wondering how many nights I would have to wait, Weasley."
She followed the voice, her eyes gaping wide. How was this what she needed? How was he what she needed.
She cleared her throat, straightening her spine to look at him more intently and confidently. "Evening, Malfoy."
Avoiding Draco was a much heftier task, and it was one that she felt quite guilty about. He had been so good to her that day, holding her against him as she cried beneath her favorite spot by the lake. He warmed her body by holding her close, and he warmed her soul by simply being there. Though she never said it, she appreciated greatly that he had demanded nothing from her. He asked for no explanations, nor had he demanded any answers. No. He had just been what she needed - a friend.
And yet, for reasons that even she was unable to decipher, she had been deliberately avoiding him - like the plague, in fact. When she would see him in the hallways, she would latch on to the closest person that she knew and pretend to be discussing something important. In Potions, she had begun partnering with Hermione, which was something that Ron was not terribly thrilled about. During meal times, she would come in late, determine where he was sitting, and deliberately make sure that she chose a seat that was nowhere near his line of vision. It was positively juvenile behavior, she knew, and it was ridiculously unreasonable. There was no reason for her to treat someone who had been so good to her this way.
Marching into the common room after dinner, she tossed herself onto her favorite sofa by the fireplace. It was much too dark and cold to sit outside anymore, so she had been resigning herself to remain where Draco could not approach her. Unfortunately, this spot did not allow her complete privacy. In fact, she was left much more alone when she sat beneath her tree where most people assumed she had purposely sat alone.
The couch gave way under someone's weight, and Ginny glanced to her left. Neville sat beside her, smiling gaily in the firelight.
"Hullo, Gin!" he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Ginny smiled despite herself and leaned into his welcoming arm. Neville had turned into being just like another brother to her, as if she needed more of them. He was protective and sweet, and she loved him dearly, and yet he was able to annoy her with the best of them. Sometimes, though, she preferred to talk to him over some of her real brothers. She found that over the last few weeks, he had been the only person who had been able to put a smile on her face.
"What's the matter, love?" Neville asked, planting a kiss at the top of her head.
She considered not speaking, but decided not to. Her friend was much too good to her for her to give the silent treatment. "I'm just thinking," she replied. Ginny knew the statement was vague, but she really hoped that he would get the hint and not press her forward.
Her hopes were left unanswered. "What are you thinking about?"
A deep sigh escaped her lips before a sudden thought entered her mind. Sitting up, she looked at Neville and said, "Nev, you're a guy, right?"
He blinked twice before nodding. "Oh, well spotted, Gin."
She smacked him playfully. "Seriously, I want to know something. From the perspective of a guy, is there something wrong with me? Is there something," she paused, "unappealing about me?"
"You're beautiful, Ginny. You know that."
"That's not what I mean. I mean, am I not worth... waiting for?" Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized there was a chance that Neville might not know what she was talking about.
"You mean..." he trailed off, flushing a light pink himself.
She nodded. "I mean, I know you don't think of me that way, exactly. But is there something wrong with me that would make a guy not want to wait for me?"
He kissed her cheek. "Ginny, you are, without a doubt, one of the nicest, smartest, and most beautiful girls in this school. If there is someone who thinks you aren't worth the world, give me their name, and I will gladly allow them to... hex me to death while I attempt to defend your honor." At her smile, he pulled her in for a closer hug. "I love you, Ginbug. You're the sister I never had."
And once again, a guy who was not Harry or Ron was there to make her feel better.
That evening at dinner, she sat beside Neville and Seamus. She was several seats away from the trio, and yet she allowed herself to be perfectly within Draco's line of vision. Immediately, she noticed that he was staring at her, and she actually felt herself flush as his smoldering eyes bore into her.
After an hour of picking on Neville good-naturedly and listening to the dirty jokes that Seamus had shared, Ginny found herself walking away from the Great Hall in a better mood than she had been for weeks. She wandered around aimlessly, finding herself on the seventh floor, standing before a door.
She knew it was the Room of Requirement, but by no means had she realized that there was something that she had needed. She found it odd that the door had appeared before her so easily, so freely, and she faltered a moment before she made the decision to go in.
The room looked the same as it had the last time she had been there, when she had woken up from her drunken night alone. She never questioned why Draco had left her alone, but it was something that plagued her. She decided then that, if she ever spoke to Draco again, she would ask him why.
The two sofas sat before the same dimly-lit fireplace, and the same white fleece blanket sat upon the one that she had previously slept on. It struck her as odd that it had returned there, but she assumed that it was something that appeared because it belonged to the room.
One difference, she noted. The portrait leading to Hogsmeade was missing, which meant that she couldn't use the room as a means to escape at the moment. Apparently, that meant that whatever she needed was already in the room. There had to be, or else the door would not have appeared before her.
"I was wondering how many nights I would have to wait, Weasley."
She followed the voice, her eyes gaping wide. How was this what she needed? How was he what she needed.
She cleared her throat, straightening her spine to look at him more intently and confidently. "Evening, Malfoy."
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