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I'm not the biggest fan of this ship, and I don't read fanfiction for it, but I do agree with the way Rowling wrote it in the sixth book. It made sense that it should happen with all that had happened. I wrote this as it was assigned to me in a competition, and thankfully, I don't have to write any more chapters for it, so I thought I'd stick it up to spread out the time. Enjoy it. I hope you do.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except for my poor verbal abuse of a brilliant character. Rowling owns it all, except for the quote that I was provided with for the competition. Just beautiful.

The families had already begun arriving, the Great Hall had been decorated the night before, students were whispering left and right, the euphoria beyond overwhelming, but for Ginny Weasley it wasn’t excitement that enveloped her, nor was it happiness, and it was light-years away from exhilaration or joy.

It wasn’t her year to leave, and this wasn’t worrying her in the slightest. She was content in remaining in Hogwarts, carrying on, but just the idea of being here without them was washing away any glee she could have possibly felt for them if the situation was otherwise. It reminded her of Ron’s first year; it had been her first year at home without him, and then she’d caught her first glimpse of her brother’s best friend. Those three years had been unbearable, knowing how much she’d liked him, and she was hardly oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t returned her feelings.

He’d be leaving today. It was his graduation, and sitting up in the rickety staircase towards the Astronomy Tower, she wasn’t going to allow her glum expression to ruin it for him. She’d brighten when he’d see her…if he’d see her, at all. She’d managed to avoid him all morning, and the night before, she’d remained in her dormitory, preferring Hermione to come to her for a spontaneous talk about Ron. They’d kissed, finally, and Hermione had seemed quite shocked at Ginny’s response. She hadn’t meant it like that, and she hadn’t meant to draw Hermione away from Ron’s good points, regardless of how few of them he had. She’d said, “Ron would snog a Thestral if he had the chance”.

Hermione, in all her sensibleness, had replied, “You don’t mean that, surely.” Ginny could all but burst at the seams with hysterics on the expression that had mutilated her friend’s face. Ron would be prepared to skin her alive if he caught heed of the exchange of words.

Breathing deeply, she combed her hair out of her face, her hand holding it back as a fugitive tear trickled its way down her pale cheek. Looking down at Hagrid’s hut, she watched the chickens, bringing her back to what he’d done for her in her first year. He had been there, he had saved her, he hadn’t let her get away…all within the knowledge that he could have died at any moment. And that was one thing she loved about him…he wasn’t a selfish person. And that was why, she’d assumed, he wasn’t with her now. It was all for her, for her safety…but she didn’t want it, nor would she ask for it. All she asked for was him.

Everything reminded her of him; as she grasped the wooden banister and pulled herself to her feet, and turning away to the stone wall, she wiped her face although there was no one around to hide it from. He could’ve melted glaciers with the look she received the last time she’d suggested they’d try again after the long, quiet streak coming from the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

That had been six months ago, and she hadn’t dared ask again, not wanting to see his ashen face sweat. His rosy cheeks had become sallow and insipid, and muttering his obscenities, she hadn’t needed his answer. She’d already known what it was, and she wasn’t prepared to listen to that agonizing and excruciating speech again – she’d chosen to separate herself as far from him as it was possible to go.

In the past, she’d brushed off her feelings for guys by simply moving onto another, not wanting to stimulate it further. But, now it was different. It was complicated. It wasn’t just Dean, it wasn’t just Michael…it wasn’t just anyone. It was him. Ginny wanted to tell him how much she’d prefer spending her time with him, knowing she was in danger, rather than being without and having to suffer the loneliness, the torment of watching him everyday knowing that he wouldn’t hold her like he used to.

Rubbing her sore eyes, and blowing out a held breath, trembling, she made her way down the rickety stairs and out onto a main corridor, careful to avoid Sir Cadogan, the psychotic knight who always managed to bring her to the end of her tether. One day she’d scrub his portrait clean.

Slipping into the Gryffindor Common Room, after giving the password to an unbearably cheerful Fat Lady, she rushed towards the girls’ staircase. She’d much rather spend his graduation locked up in her dormitory than have to watch him preparing to leave. She’d see him again, but only by chance.

Two stairs up, a voice burst out stopping her from going any further. Turning around, she faced him, her eyebrows rose from her shining, red eyes, feeling as if she’d just swallowed her voice.

“Hi,” he said, his expression changing when he’d spotted her eyes, sore from crying. “What’s wrong?” She adored him, but even he couldn’t be blind to what was bothering her, and she knew full well that he knew what her problem was.

“Nothing. I-I, better…I better go,” she said, rubbing her arm, and turning back to where she’d been heading, getting ready to run to her bed.

“Wait! Ginny…just wait. I wanted to talk with you,” he said, coughing slightly and she knew he was feeling uncomfortable being surrounded by all these people, watching the two of them exchange words. She didn’t feel the same, she didn’t care, and they didn’t matter.

“Want to go to the lake?” she offered, aware of his disposition

Walking down to the lake was beyond uncomfortable for Ginny, her affliction, as she watched and remembered the way he walked alongside her. Before, they had been holding hands, now she managed to clasp them to the front of her, not allowing herself to hope that he’d slip his fingers through hers. Before, warmth had radiated from him to her, making her glow, to the ends of her limbs, welcoming her into his embrace. Now…now it was different, the feelings were poles apart, it was altered, and what she’d do to have it all back, not even Ginny could define.

Stopping towards the end of the lake, where the water slipped above the rocks onto the grass, leaving muddy patches, she turned back to him, her expression questioning.

“You wanted to speak to me?” she asked, as he looked down at his feet, looking up at her, and then returning his gaze to the ground.

“Listen…Ginny. I spent some time with Professor McGonagall yesterday, and we spoke about Voldemorte…and what I’ll be facing. She doesn’t know in particular what might happen, and I can’t either…but I want you to know, that I’ll be thinking of you, and…I can’t do this,” he said, his hands grasping his hair, and slithering down his face.

“Just tell me,” she directed, not wanting to wait around. Not after the last time.

“I want to…I want to.” She sighed, rolling her eyes at him but before she’d managed to come out with a scathing retort, he’d pushed forward and clinched her lips against his own. His hands took against her forearms and squeezed them, before moving his hand, through hers. Just the way she remembered.

But she pulled away, tears springing to her eyes as she gulped air. “You can’t do this to me, not again. I won’t have it…you have to stop this.”

“Listen Ginny—“

“No! Can’t you see? Sooner or later, most definitely sooner, you’re going to realise what you did last year. You won’t want to be with me for all your heroic characteristics, and your need to please. If you had wanted me then, then you wouldn’t have let me go,” she groaned, walked away from him and leaning against a tree trying to balance herself.

“What if I said—“

“Said what? That we could keep it secret? I don’t want to keep it secret. If you’re afraid of what’ll happen, don’t let it happen at all. If you had faith in me, then we wouldn’t have been apart for so long…you’re scared of what might happen…and I’m scared too. If you can’t face it, with me, then it’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Will you just shut up, Ginny? I can’t stand it when you’re stubborn, I can’t stand it when you look at me in that way, I can’t stand how your smile just drops whenever you see me. I miss you…just you, and if you want to, if you’re prepared to do it with me. If you’re not scared…then, I’m willing to do what you proposed at Christmas. Just…together. I know I’m late, and I should’ve realised this earlier, but I was blinded by my own stupidity and I didn’t understand that you could handle yourself. I just didn’t bother grasping it, and I’m sorry Ginny. I’m sorry. Will you…Can we try again?”

She couldn’t give him an answer. Standing by the tree, his eyes locked with hers, and she could see the definitive pleading within them. Swallowing, she looked at his hand, reaching for hers, and before she knew it, she’d gripped his with hers. Leaning toward him, their lips embraced, and her breath stuck in her throat as she stood with her arms around him. Around Harry. Just as it was supposed to be.


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