One Day

Chapter 4

Ginny unlocked her door using several charms. She was glad she didn't need a Muggle key, she could hardly see for the tears in her eyes. Needing to feel Harry close, she took his hand and led him into her apartment.

Being a Weasley, anyone would suspect that Ginny would be a slob. However, growing up with six brothers meant she was her Mum's helper and she had learned from an early age to pick up after herself. You never know what your Mum would find hidden in the forgotten corners of your room.

Standing in the middle of her living room, Ginny found she was still holding Harry's hand. She stared at his fingers, entwined in her own. She had always loved Harry's hands. They were so amazing. One day they would be strong and rough grabbing the snitch and the next, they would be gentle and caring while stroking Hedwig. Ginny always thought you could tell a lot about a person from studying their hands. She had studied Harry's hands for years. It was one of the few ways she could watch him without feeling too exposed.

She knew Harry was watching her and she had to end the silence. "Would you like something, a butterbeer or some tea?" Ginny thought her voiced sounded strange - far away and not quite her own. She dropped Harry's hand, kicked off her sandals, and took off her cloak, laying it over the armchair in front of her fireplace.

"No, I'm fine."

Nodding her head, she made her way to the kitchen, wiping her face with back of her hand. She got a butterbeer and glass for herself. She returned to the living room, noticed Harry had taken his cloak off and hung it up on the hall tree, along with hers. He was sitting in the chair with his hands balled up into each other. He looked like he was preparing himself for bad news.

She sat on the sofa and poured her drink. She wasn't thirsty, but Ginny needed to keep her hands busy. She took a sip and closed her eyes.

Harry coughed. "I thought we shouldn't be disturbed, so I put a charm on the fireplace. No one will be able to Floo you for 24 hours. I hope you don't mind. I took the same precaution with the door. Only you or I will be able to open it and only from the inside."

Ginny was amazed at what Harry had done and stared at him. He was so thoughtful. How did he know so much, she grew up surrounded by magic and yet she had never heard of these charms?

Harry seemed to be reading her mind. "You have to learn to protect yourself from unwanted guests when you are "The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". I guess all those books Hermione has given me over the years turned out to be more useful then I thought." Harry gave a mirthless chuckle and looked at the floor.

"Hermione always seems to know what books we need. She gave me a Muggle cookbook once, said I might enjoy learning a few recipes that yo...that were different from what Mum could teach me. She was right. I don't know how I would survive without S'mores." Ginny knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop herself. "She gave me a book on my last birthday called "Wizards - 50 Steps To Pick Your Perfect Mate"." Memories were tumbling in her head and she couldn't control where they were taking her. Ginny didn't realize she was voicing her thoughts. "Well, I guess I forgot a few steps because that blew up in my face. I'm '0 for 8' on picking men." She laughed, but it wasn't happy. She took another sip from her glass and started to roll it back and forth in her hands.

"What do you mean '0 for 8'?"

Ginny's eyes opened in terror. She hadn't meant to say that aloud, and now she would have to explain it to Harry. He wouldn't accept a flimsy explanation either. Her secret was going to have to come out, but she didn't know if that was good or not. Harry deserved to know why she was acting mental; she just needed to find the courage to tell him.

"You aren't the only one who hasn't had much success with dating. I...well I haven't found anyone since Michael Corner who treated me decently. They were all toads. I guess I know now that my Prince Charming isn't waiting for me on a lily pad." Ginny looked into her glass as she rolled it between her hands. Maybe if it was a crystal ball she could she her future, but all she saw was amber liquid trying to spill out. She set her glass on the table in front of her. The silence in the room was deafening. She knew Harry was waiting for her to explain, allowing her time to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath and began.

"I want to tell you.... to explain why I reacted how I did earlier tonight. I only ask that you not interrupt, no questions until I'm done. It is a long story." And a hard story to tell, Ginny thought. She looked up into Harry's face and saw him nod. She took another deep breath and continued.

"I'm sure you know that for several years I had a crush on you. It wasn't hard to like you Harry. You see...ever since I was a little girl your story was a legend. It was my favorite bedtime story; the Wizarding World's fairy tale, you know - how a small baby had lost his parents, had defeated the evil dark lord and lived, was secretly in hiding, how all he had left was a exquisite scar to remind him of his loss." Ginny shrugged her shoulders, "Every little girl's idea of a prince."

"Bill used to tell me the story each night before I went to sleep. He would always end the story by saying, "Ginny, one day you will meet this famous boy and he will fall madly in love with you. Do you know why?" I would always shake my head no, even though I knew what he would say next. "Because this happened the same year you were born. It's fate. You two will get married and live "Happily Ever After"." I always loved that part - "Happily Ever After."

"Well, when you became friends with Ron, I thought my dream was coming true. But, after the Chamber, I decided I didn't deserve to live happily ever after. That summer, remember, we went to Egypt to see Bill, and he told me...he told me," Ginny swallowed the lump rising in her throat, "my dreams could still come true, but it would take a lot of courage and strength to make it happen." Ginny paused and found herself rocking back and forth on the sofa, her hands clenched so tightly her nails were digging into her palms. She stopped rocking and laid her hands flat down on her thighs.

"Over the years I grew to believe that. Bill wrote me every week, trying to cheer me up by telling me silly stories about his school days and jokes from his friends at work. He would tell me about the pyramids he was working on and the curses he was using. I would sometimes look them up to see what they did and how they worked. I actually sent him one as a joke, and he used it. It was from an old book Dad had stored away in his collection. I told him to try 'Open Sesame'. It was only a joke, but I guess it worked."

Ginny stopped. She suddenly felt very exposed. She clasped her hands to calm her nerves, but it didn't work. She took a tentative look at Harry to see if he was laughing at her. He wasn't. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, paying close attention.

Ginny stood up and walked around behind the sofa, she needed more space between herself and Harry. He was watching her so closely, his emerald eyes focusing on her so intently, that it was unnerving her. She was laying bare her soul to Harry; it was more difficult than she had imagined. She crossed her arms in front of her, as if to protect her feelings and went on with the tale.

"After a while, I knew that you were interested in Cho, so I decided to give up on my silly childhood dreams and focus on reality. I went out with Michael; he was nice and treated me...well, as if I were special. I never told him about my first year, nothing. I never told anyone. Who would want to be with a girl who could talk to snakes, who tried to kill all the Muggle-borns?" Ginny shook her head to get the image out of her mind.

"I didn't talk about it at all until my fourth year, with you after you saw the snake bite Dad. I couldn't tell...no one would understand what happened to me. My Mum, well I told her a little bit, not much. She wanted to know but was afraid of the truth. Bill wanted to help, but he was thousands of miles away, he couldn't be there for me, as he wanted. Everyone else in the family, huh, they didn't know the truth and I wasn't going to destroy the image they had of their sweet, innocent little sister. I think Ron guessed what happened, but he never asked me. Maybe he asked Hermione. I finally apologized to her; I knew that she'd figure out what part I played. I didn't try to forget about it, that wouldn't happen. I wish it could. I pushed it away to the back of my mind. Now it only comes out at night, in my dreams.

"So, like I said, I started to date a few guys at school, usually for no more than a month or two. They were nice enough, but it seemed they were only trying to use me to get close to you."

Harry's head popped up. He looked surprised and angry. He started to speak, but Ginny could tell he was holding himself in check, just as he promised.

"Yeah, they wanted to brag to their families that they hung out with "The Famous Harry Potter". Anyway, it set up a bad trend in my life. From then on, I only seemed to be able to attract people who wanted something from me - not me."

Ginny rubbed her arms trying to warm up, but it wasn't the room that was cold, it was her heart. She had only sad, cold memories and they weren't comforting her. The rest of the story was going to be difficult and Ginny's stomach was beginning to churn. She hoped she could get through this without embarrassing herself too much. Without her knowledge, Ginny's feet had backed her into the wall.

"After I left Hogwarts, I...well I was the Minister of Magic's daughter and lots of people wanted to be my friend. It was strange, girls who had never paid any attention to me, wanted to be my best friend. Guys who had so far looked right through me were lining up to date me. They gave me plenty of attention, and I guess I really craved it. It made me feel popular, and wanted. However, one by one they all got around to asking me for help to get close to some one in my family or...others.

"I can remember them so clearly, it is like having a shopping list in my head. One guy, Adam, wanted to get close to Dad. His goal was to be fast tracked for promotion in the Ministry. Simon wanted to get to Mum. He was writing the Weasley Family History and needed a few intimate family details." Ginny started to rub her temples. Her mind was working so fast that it was beginning to give her a headache.

"Let's see, Dylan wanted to get close to Fred, or George, he didn't care. He just wanted to get some of his products sold in their store. A few girls' thought they were cute and maybe in time they would be rich enough to marry. Fred and George always said they would gladly accept any female groupies, but I'm sure they didn't mean money hungry hags.

"Next, was Jason, a rich wizard who wanted Ron to help him talk the Cannons owners into selling him a percentage of the team. Then there was Crispin who wanted to get close to Hermione because she was 'so hot'. I guess I'm not. Then, it was Jonathan, who surprisingly wanted near Percy. He turned out to be a relative of Fudge's, and wanted to get some dirt to blackmail him."

Harry snickered at this point. Ginny didn't hear him because she was too deep into her memories. "Lastly, there was Terrance who wanted Charlie to sneak him a Hungarian Horntail egg."

With each name Ginny ticked off, she had unconsciously taken a step closer to the corner furthest from Harry. She was only a foot from standing directly in the corner; punishing herself for her sin of trusting Marcel.

"That's only seven. Who's the eighth?" Harry had said this so quietly that Ginny almost imagined she hadn't heard him speak. She felt like she was in a bad dream and when she finished the dream, she would wake and none of this would have happened. It wasn't a dream, no matter how much Ginny prayed that it was. It was real, her painful past - just as ugly and dark as her other private demon. This was the part of the story she longed to skip, but it was the most significant twist in her dirty little secret.

"The eighth was Marcel, Marcel Renard." Ginny could barely spit out his name. "He was really good, he really had me fooled. I truly believed I had finally found someone who wanted me. Just me. Only me. Not what I could get them. I was such a sucker. I fell into the same trap, as if I had blinders on and couldn't think for myself, couldn't see this going down the same path as all the others. How could I have been so blind?" Ginny kicked the wall but didn't notice the pain

"I guess I shouldn't feel too bad, he even had Hermione fooled. She wasn't at first. She told me that he was 'too perfect'. She was right, he was. The family liked him. Mum loved him. He was charming, polite - he showered me with attention. Over time, she came around to trust that he was sincere. Too perfect." Ginny shook her head. "That should have been my clue; he was too perfect, too good to be true. If I had heeded Fleur's advice, she tried to warn me who and what he was. If I had for once listened to Fred and George. They know a shark when they see one. I would have saved myself a lot of heartache. Instead, I ignored them all. Only I knew the 'real' Marcel."

Ginny pressed herself tightly into the corner; head resting on the wall on her left. It seemed as if she was describing a Muggle movie that was playing in her head. She could see ever scene, hear every word, as if she was watching it on the telly at Ron's. Her head was really hurting now; she closed her eyes and was rubbing her right hand along her forehead.

In a quiet voice, Ginny continued. "He told me I was pretty and smart and he loved me.... all the things a girl longs to hear. He thought I was wonderful. I found him exciting. He was French, with a beautiful accent. He was tall, trim, with black hair and beautiful hazel eyes. He was what I had dreamed of, always wanted.

"I should have been suspicious when he started pointing out articles in The Daily Prophet about you. He asked if Ron knew you, if you had gone to school together, innocent sounding questions. Though he often dropped the subject for weeks, he always came back to it. He finally told me he would like to meet you. I said you didn't go out much and usually only when prodded. I didn't want to bother you. I thought that eventually we would be at The Burrow some time when you were around and that he would get the opportunity to speak with you. Somehow, it never worked out, either you weren't coming, or we had to leave early or you'd cancel at the last minute. He always seemed annoyed, agitated, but I put it down to nerves and disappointment.

This went on for about two months, and then he started pressing me to invite you out for drinks, or have you over for dinner. Every day he was on me, it was as if he couldn't control himself, as if he was obsessed with you. I asked why it was so important for him to meet you. He always found some lame reason. But after a particularly bad week, I told him I didn't believe the reasons he was giving me. I told him I thought he was holding something back, keeping a secret from me.

With a very convincing French accent, Ginny began to copy Marcel's pattern of speech. ""Are you calling me a liar?" I can still hear him yelling it, so loudly I thought my ears would bleed. I told him I didn't think he was a liar, but just evading the question. He was getting really mad, beginning to scare me with the rage that was in his eyes and the way he kept clenching his hands - like he wanted to hit me. And then he laughed, and that...that laugh...it sounded so much like...Tom...laughing at me. He was acting possessed, a madness was taking hold and I wanted to get away from him. I told him I needed to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his face." Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and absentmindedly started to rub her arm. "His eyes were so full of contempt. His face twisted into an evil smile. I could tell he liked scaring me, liked hurting me. I knew then that he was not what I had imagined. He was only playing a part.

""Do you think I have spent all this time and energy on you because I liked you? I haven't spent these weeks with you and that deranged group of people you call a family just because I liked you. I don't like you, and I've never loved you. I came with one goal in mind, to get an exclusive interview with Harry Potter. I have everything arranged. I am going to get rich off of this piece and I'll be damned if you are going ruin my plans. Now get on that blasted phone and call him!" I was so frightened. I knew you weren't in the country; you were gone on some sort of "Goodwill Ambassador Mission" to Italy. I couldn't speak; I didn't know how to tell him you weren't around. I thought he would hurt me." Tears were streaming down Ginny's face and she didn't try to stop them. The panic she was recalling was so real, she felt she was back in Marcel's clutches. It was getting hard for her to breath; her legs could no longer support her. She felt herself sinking to the floor; she wanted to hide from him, to stop the chill he could still send down her spine.

"He told me that he was a liar, that everything he had said to me was a crock. "You were so gullible. You made my job so easy. It was almost a crime to accept money for so little effort on my part. However, I had to recover my losses from all those trinkets I bought you. A few well-chosen words of adoration, a few small tokens of my affection and you were hooked. All I just had to do was reel you in nice and slow. Did you really think any-one would lavish you, the way I did, because you deserved it? You are so pathetic that I almost feel sorry for you.""

By this time, Ginny was choking back sobs. She couldn't control her speech and the words were coming out so fast she was tripping over her tongue. ""You are the last... woman on earth that would tempt me. Look at you, just look at you. You are short and skinny; a...a 12-year-old boy has more curves than you do. You face is full of those repulsive freckles. Your hair, what an ugly color - who could stand looking at that... unholy... mess ...every day? Your eyes, dirty brown, the color of mud. Merlin, I would rather kiss a dead newt then have to endure another snogging session with you in my arms." He kept on and on and on, until he ran out of insults. He kept screaming at me to call you. I finally got out that your weren't even in England and I wasn't sure when you would return. I was sure he would hit me, but he didn't. He threw me to the floor and said, "Thanks for all the insight into your loathsome family. At least I can salvage an article out of this mess. He finally left.

"About a month later, he sent me a clipping of an article he wrote for "Le Sorciers Monde" entitled "Britain's Most Magical Family" It was about what a lovely wife and family the Minister of Magic for Great Britain had. How lucky he was that all seven of his children survived the war; what a close and loving family we are. Then, at the end of the article, he gave special thanks. It said "A special word of thanks is sent to the youngest and most beautiful Weasley, Ginny, who aided this author in so many ways. Merci, mon amour". Thank you my love."

As she finished, Ginny curled up into a ball and released the anguish she had been keeping inside her for 5 months.

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Authors Notes:

Marcel Renard - Marcel the Fox

Le Sorciers Monde - The Wizard World (based on the French paper Le Monde)