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A.N: This is the sister story to the one-shot I posted a few weeks ago, however it can easily be read without reading the other first.

Things to keep in mind when reading:
-I have never written Ginny/Harry before
-I'm still working out the kinks in my 2nd person storytelling, (thanks in large part to my wonderful reviewer mayna)
-I have never written Ginny's POV before.

So now you understand the whole process that went into this little ficlet.

Let me know if it's any good, or if I desperately need to edit the "ba-jesus" out of it.

Thanks for taking the time to read


Disclaimer: Why yes I AM secretly JKR posting fanfic. HA! 

Characters are not mine. Song belongs to Maroon 5.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

"Be Honest"

"Built a wall around my heart
I’ll never let it fall apart
But strangely I wish secretly
It would fall down while I'm asleep"


Four days. He has been living here for four days, and they were the longest of your life.

You don’t speak to each other. You tactfully avoid the other’s gaze and absolutely refuse to come into any sort of physical contact with the other. The most time you have spent in a room together was when you both had to explain your split to Ron and Hermione.

You remember smiling, and telling Ron to stop being a prat. You understand Harry’s point. You truly do.

But you don’t like it. Not one bit.

Sighing you pick up your mother’s ancient kettle and make yourself some tea. Rain silently pours down the windows. The wedding was in two days and you hoped, for your brother’s happiness and your mother’s sanity, that the rain would stop. The backyard can’t be soggy, or Phlegm will never let any of you hear the end of it.

That is how you are getting through everything with such amazing skill.

You are throwing everything you are, and all your excess thoughts and energies into the wedding. Yes, it's simply intolerable to be in Phlegm’s presence for too long a time, especially lately, but it is far better than the alternative. Sitting in your room and thinking over and over about your past love affair.

The whistling of the kettle snaps you from your reverie next to the window and shakes you from your very depressing thoughts.

Settling down at the hard wooden kitchen table you begin to think about what to do next. While your fingers trace old carvings on the wooden surface, you think that Harry is being awfully selfish, and incredibly dense.

These are not new thoughts. You thought them years ago when he was too thick to notice that you were a girl and standing right in front of him. You think it every time he goes off on one of his sulks about Voldemort, and you have been having this thought everyday since you returned from Hogwarts. Increasing exponentially in the past four days.

Who was he to make your decisions for you? That day by the lake he didn’t give you any options. He didn’t say ‘We need to talk’ or ‘I think we should go on a break’; he simply turned to you and said plainly ‘I can’t be involved with you anymore. We have to stop seeing each other. We can’t be together.’

You received no say in the matter.

Getting angry with your musings, and the cause of them, you jump up from the table and stalk to the cupboard to grab something to eat with your tea.

After slathering a chocolate chip scone with orange marmalade, you think about the past four days. You have deftly ignored his presence, even if your heart does begin to beat so loudly when you catch sight of him, that you are sure everyone, especially your keen-eyed mother, can hear it. You don’t want to be rude to him. But being in the same room with him, having to hear his soft laugh, see his crooked smiles, and watch him blush uncomfortably under the love that he receives from you mother is simply too much for you to deal with. So you artfully make up excuses, and usually leave the room. You don’t want him to see your weakness, so you put a guard up.

The worst part is, that if he were to ask for you back, you don’t know if your first reaction would be to kiss him or kill him.

Lucky for him, you knew deep down that you would never get the chance to discover what your first impulse would be.

Him asking you to take him back was never going to happen. You were going to have to fight for him.

Because yes, despite it all you still love him. And you know that somewhere deep down he still loves you too.
If you are anything, you are passionate and loving. You will fight tooth and nail for someone you love and Harry definitely qualified. You’re both a lover and a fighter.

The devious schemes that spring to mind with that thought are enough to bring a small smile to your face.

You are pondering the possible ways to get Harry to realize that he is being a right wanker, when three voices disrupt your thoughts.

Speak of the devil...

Harry, Ron and Hermione enter the room arguing quietly, their voices low. You can’t hear everything they are saying but you catch certain key words such as, "Voldermort", "Dumbledore","school records" and "search". They have yet to notice your presence, too immersed in fighting with each other. Or rather your brother and Hermione are rapidly firing harsh whispers back and forth, while Harry plays mediator. Giggling softly at the familiar scene, you draw attention to yourself.

Harry notices first and glances up at you. You keep the small smile on your face, even though all you can hear is blood rushing in your ears, and all you can feel are your knee-caps turning to pudding at his quick glance.

In half a moment his gaze is elsewhere. Hermione and Ron also notice your presence and turn to face you.

"Sorry Gin, we didn’t mean to disrupt you." Hermione says kindly, gesturing to your long-cold tea.

"It's fine, fine." you say with an air on nonchalance you don’t feel. You offer them your half pot of cold tea, and platter of scones before pushing in your chair, and depositing your cup in the sink.

You feel his eyes on you, but refuse to turn and look, knowing that when you turn he won’t be looking at you at all. You hear him chuckle at something slightly ridiculous that Ron just muttered and you hands begin to shake.

Merlin, you miss him.

Leaving the kitchen without a word, you head to the back porch. You sit on an old rickety chair and watch the summer rain come down in buckets.

You realize that things will never be the same. You can never go back to the perfection that was the two of you in those few short weeks, but you are tired of being without him. Tired of having a mask up, of faking smiles, and avoiding gazes.

The time had come to fight, and you decide that you will be the one to fire the first shot.

Because anything worth loving, was worth fighting for.

With every worthless word we get more far away
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
It hurts but it may be the only way"

A.N: Don't forget to leave a review and please let me know if you see any glaring gramatical errors. Thanks!!!

A.N.2- (10/07) I came back to both 'Be Honest' and 'Sidestepping' to make then cannon after Deathly Hallows, but have decided with both that I couldn't bear to change them. A little slight-AU never killed anyone.

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