More Than This

‘Could you show me dear,

something I’ve not seen,

something infinitely interesting . . .’

-Incubus-

 

The Great Hall was decorated splendidly, as usual. Dumbledore sat at the head of the staff

table, a sparkle in his weary blue eyes.

“Do join us,” he said merrily.

He gestured to the empty seat across from him, which Harry immediately took. Hermione and Ron sat on either side of him, and Ginny sat by Hermione. She felt less than pleased to find that Draco (Malfoy, she reminded herself) had taken the chair directly across from her. Food appeared in front of them, and the feast began. Through the duration of the meal, she forced herself not to so much as glance at Malfoy. But she could not ignore the tension in the air. She ate quickly, then excused herself. When she was out of th door, she sank against the wall and closed her eyes. She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear the door open. She did, however, feel someone place their arms around her. Damn ring, she thought. It’s making me remember again. Thinking it was all in her head, she was not at all surprised at the sensation of familiar lips on hers. She did not fight it. It’s only a memory. What harm can it do?

            Suddenly, she heard a gasp. Wait, that never happened. Her eyes flew open. Malfoy was staring down at her. The instant before he assumed his normal impassive expression, she caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes. A flash of black invaded her vision.

“Ginny?”

Oh god. Harry . . .

Harry whirled on Malfoy. “What the hell were you doing? I told you to stay away from her.”

Malfoy sneered. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, Potter.”

Harry advanced on him. “Why were you touching my girlfriend?”

“A bit possessive, are we?”

“She is mine, Malfoy. You stay away,” Harry hissed.

“She didn’t seem to mind.”

“Shut up! Both of you, shut up!” Ginny shouted. They both looked at her. It seemed that they had forgotten she was there.

“Gin,”, Harry began softly. He stopped abruptly when he saw the anger written on her face. Malfoy fixed her with a cold stare.

“Harry, I am not, nor will I ever be yours. I am not your possession. Not your ornament. Not your charity case.” Her voice rose. “And you have no right to tell anyone to stay away from me. I will tell someone if I don’t want to be around them.”

Malfoy smiled smugly.

 

The smile fell from his face as she threw them both another daggering look, then walked away.

                                                                        *

Harry glared at Malfoy. “You stupid prat! You made her leave!”

“Don’t be a fool, Potter. Your possessiveness is what made her leave. I didn’t hear any complaints when it was just the two of us.”

Harry clenched his fists. “Shut up.”

“What’s the matter, Potter? Afraid to hear the truth?”

“You did something to her. She would never let you touch her.”

“Is that so?” Malfoy taunted, smirking. “Well, maybe you should ask her about the other occasions on which she did.”

“You’re lying,” Harry said, sounding uncertain.

“Maybe I am. You’ll just have to ask her, won’t you?”

                                                                        *

            Ginny sat Indian style on her bed. She nervously ran her fingers over her necklace. The crystal felt warm to the touch. The shades of red grew darker, spinning faster and faster within the charm. The Ring of Memories, as she had decided to call it, lay discarded on her bedside table. Harry saw us. She was replaying the scene in her head. Why did I let him kiss me? Because I didn’t know! Yes, I did know. Part of me knew. It was too . . . strong to be a memory. But that ring, it was so powerful. Not that powerful, not that unfamiliar. She ran her hands through her hair. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard heavy footsteps approaching the door.

“Harry, calm down,” she heard Hermione say. “Tell us what happened.”

“You can’t go in there without permission. It’s the girl’s dorm!” Ron said.

But in an instant, the door flew open. Harry stepped in the room, slamming the door in the faces of his two best friends. He paced the floor restlessly.

“Malfoy told me something, Ginny.” His voice was full of sorrow, anger, uncertainty, and fear. It cut her like a knife. “He told me something so ridiculous . . . It can’t be true. You would never . . .”

When he looked at her, his green eyes burned into her. She felt tears sting her eyes.

“He forced you, somehow. I don’t know how. But you would never let him.”

She looked down, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Would you?”

He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. She knew that guilt was written on her face. He stared at her in disbelief.

“No. No, he was lying,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The color drained from his face. “Did you . . . While you were with me?”

The tears that escaped her eyes provided the answer. He looked at her, his face contorted in pain and disgust.

“How could you?”

She met his accusing gaze. “Because I needed someone.”

“You had me. You had Ron and Hermione.”

“No. It was always you three. I was an addition. A charity.”

“So you went to Malfoy?”

“I didn’t go to Malfoy.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Ginny kept her eyes on Harry, who looked at the floor.

“What do you want me to do, Ginny?” he asked finally, sounding defeated.

“Nothing.” She spoke softly, hesitantly.

“Do you want to be with me?”

Her silence spoke volumes. He walked to the door, then looked back at her.

“I’ll miss you, Ginny,” he said, his words sounding choked.

She buried her head in her hands as he walked out the door.