Fragile Part III

-- Fragile --

Past And Present

"Come on! Throw him out! Just throw him out of your house, girl!" Ginny exclaimed. "He's been bloody cheating on you for ages and you know it!"

"Throw the bastard out," Harry agreed, grabbing another handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table, "throw him out and get over with it."

Both of them were sitting on the sofa in Harry's flat, gazing at the television in a rather transfixed way, watching one of Ginny's soap operas. The blonde girl on the screen was in a heated argument with a tall, lean, muscular man and in the process of ditching him because he had been sleeping with one of her (ex) best friends. He tried to kiss her, denying what had happened, as the girl took a step back, glared at him and slapped his face with the words, "You filthy bit of scum!"

"YES!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa and punching her hand in the air. "Yes, yes, yes! You show him, Tessa!"

Harry laughed as 'Tessa' turned away from her nonplussed (ex) boyfriend, went through the open door to her house and slammed it shut behind her. He took the bowl of popcorn and placed it on his lap as Ginny let herself fall back onto the sofa contently.

"So?" he asked, grinning. "About time she ditched him."

"Damn right," Ginny agreed, taking some popcorn herself. "He's been going out with Samantha for over a month."

It was early June 2001 and Ginny had barely left Hogwarts two years ago. A few weeks back, they had celebrated her twentieth birthday at the Burrow and, for the millionth time, Molly had kept annoying her about Harry, asking about marriage and children. Ginny shook her head at the memory. She was only twenty! She was not about to have children now, for heaven's sake. Children could wait. They could wait for a long time, to be precise. Molly wasn't too happy about that decision, but growing up with six older brothers, Ginny had made up her mind long ago to have one or two kids, not more. Anyway, she had never really discussed that issue with Harry. It was nothing any of them was thinking about much; they liked their freedom as a couple. One day, Ginny thought, they might want to move in together since they mostly spent their free time either at Harry's or at her place, but even that had time. At the moment, Harry played Quidditch with the Walton Whizzers, a village not far away from London where they both had their flats. Ginny worked for the Ministry of Magic, and was specializing on the development of new hexes and curses, a job she adored. They were still in close contact with Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville, all single at the moment, but the sparks were flying high between her brother and the dreamy Ravenclaw. Perhaps one day they would finally start dating... Ginny sighed as she noted that the bowl of popcorn was empty. She took it from Harry, placed it on the table and laid her head down on his lap instead.

"You know," Harry said, playing with her curly red hair absently, "I wonder why Tessa didn't kick him out straight away when she realized he was cheating."

"'Cause she loved him," Ginny replied, closing her eyes sleepily, enjoying the sensation of Harry's fingers running through her hair. "She was hoping it wasn't true."

"I love you, Ginny," Harry said and kissed her nose.

Ginny opened her eyes again rapidly, grinning. "Does that mean I can cheat on you for a while and you wouldn't ditch me?" she asked, laughing.

"Don't even think about it, Missy," Harry replied and bent down to kiss her properly.

However, his lips had barely touched hers when the doorbell rang. Ginny grumbled and sat up as Harry slipped away and went to see who was at the door. She resisted the temptation to jump up and follow him out of pure curiosity and busied herself, refilling the bowl of popcorn with a few flicks of her wand. She then leant back against the sofa, watching the adverts on television. Boring, boring, boring. Who wanted to buy a dishwasher if it could be done with one of the simplest house-holding charms? Muggles, Ginny thought, shaking her head.

"Gin?"

Ginny turned away from the television to find herself looking at a disgruntled Harry, who was scowling down at her and apparently not very happy. "What?" she asked, wondering what could have happened.

"Someone at the door for you," he replied darkly and disappeared into the kitchen.

"For me?" Ginny asked his retreating back. "This is your flat."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and opened the fridge, starting to rummage about for something to drink. Ginny sighed and got up, heading towards the entrance. Who the heck would be looking for her here and put Harry into such a bad mood? She straightened the creases from her robes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously, closing the door to the lounge behind her as she stepped out into the hall. Standing there, outside the flat, in the corridor, was a tall person wearing unsuspicious Muggle clothing and a nervous grin.

"Dean?" Ginny asked incredulously, approaching the doorframe.

"Err...hi, Ginny."

"Hey," Ginny replied, frowning. "What's up? Haven't seen you around for a while."

"Yeah, uhm... I was abroad for a whole year, in the States," he explained. "Working there."

"Oh," Ginny said, nodding and, at the same time, frantically searching for something else to say. "Interesting. D'you...d'you have a good time there then? In the States, I mean? I've never been there. Only Romania, Egypt, Romania, Romania and err...Romania," she joked.

Dean laughed. "The States were okay. I can't complain, I suppose. Was quite some experience, yes. Quite an experience," he said. "It's good to be home though."

"I guess," Ginny said.

"Yup."

Silence issued. Ginny noticed that Dean was playing with his hands unconsciously, indicating nervousness. What was he doing here? Ginny was holding on to the door with one hand, utterly confused, as Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, noticing the way he was fidgeting around. Who had told him that she would be at Harry's? How had given him the address? Still, Dean did not talk, so she decided to just ask him what he wanted. Boys seemed to have a problem when it came to voicing their questions.

"Dean..." she started carefully.

"So, how have you been doing since you left Hogwarts, Ginny?" Dean interrupted her quickly. "Been busy?"

"Err...yes. I work at the Ministry. Development of new hexes and jinxes, to be precise."

"Ah," Dean replied. "You like it there?"

"Yes, pretty much. Once I've finished my formation, I'll be working on a new and easier equivalent to the Bat-Bogey Hex."

"Ah," Dean repeated, nodding. "So, err...how are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Ginny said and continued before he could interrupt her again. "Look, Dean, I know you guys enough to be sure that there's something you want to say or ask. Just spit it out, will you? Don't tell me you've come here to just say hello to me. This is not my flat."

Dean avoided her eyes and, after a few seconds, started speaking to the floor. "I...I've been thinking, Ginny. Had loads of time to do so after I broke up with Susan... Susan Bones, you know. Didn't work out well, long distance relationship. Me in America, her in Wales, you see. Anyway...d'you remember, back in sixth year?"

"What, back in sixth year?" Ginny asked, confused by the sudden change of topic.

"Well, your fifth year."

"Err...yes?"

"Well, you see, as I said, I've been thinking--"

"Oh, wait a minute...just wait a minute there, Dean," Ginny interrupted him. "By any chance, do you mean the beginning of the school year? When we were going out with each other after Ron had set us up?"

"Yeah," Dean said, brightening up. "That's what I wanted--"

"Dean," Ginny said seriously, "it's been over four years, you realize that, don't you?"

"Exactly," Dean replied. "Over four years...so many things have changed. I mean--"

"Dean, listen to me, please," Ginny said and pointed at the flat that spread out behind her with her free hand. "I am currently standing in Harry's flat. Can't you guess what I'm doing here?"

"Yeah, I heard, but--"

"I'm really, really sorry about what happened between you and Susan, Dean. I really am very sorry. Sorry as a friend, I mean," Ginny said and, from the corner of her eyes, she saw Harry's cloak hanging near the door. "I've...I've found what I wanted," she added silently. "I've found it, Dean. I'm not--I'm not leaving again."

Dean stood rooted on the spot, as if he was frozen, looking right through her. Then he suddenly awakened from his stupor and nodded abruptly. "Right. Right. I'm sorry. I just wanted to...well, in case...you know," he said, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, "I mean--"

"That's okay."

"Well," Dean said, returning his gaze to Ginny. "Well, I'll...I'll see you around then."

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "Yeah. See you around."

Ginny watched Dean Thomas turn and head down the staircase to the first floor quickly before closing the door quietly behind herself and going back inside the lounge. The television had been turned off; the bowl of popcorn stood untouched on the table in front of the sofa; the door leading to the kitchen was closed. Ginny frowned and pushed it open to find Harry sitting at the table, peeling the label off a bottle of half-emptied butterbeer.

"What did he want?" Harry asked grumpily, not looking up.

Ginny grinned, trying to ignore Harry's mood. "Nothing special, silly. He just wanted to know if I felt like changing a decision of over four years ago."

"What decision?"

"About going out with him," Ginny answered, smiling and sitting down opposite Harry. Still, he didn't as much as glance at her. "I told him he really needn't bother."

Silence.

"I told him I was happy here," Ginny continued, reaching for Harry's hand over the table. "With you, I mean."

Harry did not respond, but pulled his hand away and finished his butterbeer.

"Harry?" Ginny asked worriedly, dropping her seemingly happy manner. "What's a matter?"

"Nothing," Harry said, getting up. He dropped the empty bottle into the bin along with the label he had managed to peel off successfully.

"Nothing," Ginny repeated, frowning. "Right. So why are you behaving like this?"

"I'm not behaving like anything, Ginny," Harry snapped and left the kitchen. "I'm going to bed."

Taken aback by his abrupt departure, Ginny said nothing, sitting at the kitchen table on her own. What was his problem now? The door to Harry's bedroom closed with a dull thud and Ginny jumped at the noise. Shaking her head, she got up, brushed a few crumbs off the tablecloth and then followed Harry out of the kitchen, turning the light off. The whole flat was pitch-dark now; Harry had turned out all the lights in the lounge and hall and Ginny couldn't be bothered to switch them on again, so she walked slowly, holding on to the walls. It made her grin slightly, even if nothing about the situation was really funny--like in the summer after Sirius's death, when she had been looking for Harry in Grimmauld Place...she had been walking in the dark then too, when her hand had touched something squishy, something slimy and soft on the wall. Although it was very unlikely to come upon something like that on the walls of Harry's flat, Ginny pulled her hand away at the memory. That day, or that evening more like, marked the day their friendship had really begun. She had sat next to his bed all night, not closing her eyes once, to make sure he would get some sleep and stop having nightmares about Sirius and the veil in the Ministry...then they had gone back to Hogwarts, a few weeks before Christmas she had broken up with Dean, whom Ron had set her up with when school had started and then, in the new year, she and Harry slowly found themselves dating, to everybody's great surprise. And now, Harry was sulking for no apparent reason. She finally found her way to Harry's bedroom and, taking a deep, calming breath, opened the door silently. It was dark inside and Harry was standing at the open window, looking out, not taking any notice of her. Like back in Grimmauld Place. Exactly like back then.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. He did not answer, staring out to the empty road blankly. Great. Wonderful. Simply exhilarating. What had she done now?

"I thought you were gone," he said in a distant voice, hands crossed behind his back.

"Do you really know me that badly, Harry?" Ginny asked, feeling slightly hurt. "I didn't leave back then after Sirius's death either, did I? You should know by now."

Silence. Ginny kept her position, although she was aching to go over to him, to touch him, to feel his hand on her face, his lips on hers... No, she had to stay put. She had not done anything wrong and she wanted an explanation. Right then, right there.

"Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go," Harry spoke into the darkness of the night.

Ginny's body froze when the impact of his words hit her. They had been spoken so calmly, so quietly but they hurt so much... Like sharp little teeth boring their way through her skin, through her very heart. It was hard to breathe, it was even painful. But Ginny's voice was just as calm and deadly as Harry's had been when she spoke. "What have I done?" she asked quietly, but did not wait for a reply. "Fine. You know where I live, if ever you think you have something to tell me."

And with a sharp crack that made Harry jump, Ginny Disapparated.

~

A second later, Ginny was standing in her own flat on the other side of London, near Covent Garden, leaning against the counter in her kitchen, feeling a deep, dark, hollow pitch in her stomach. She felt sick, her head was spinning. How had this all happened? How could one person turning up in the evening make everything go so horribly wrong? She pushed herself away and, in the greyish darkness, for she didn't think she could stand bright light at that moment, went to the tap to pour herself some water. She took a glass down from the cupboard and placed it on the side of the sink, turning on the tap, passing her hands under the stream. The water ran over her fingers lazily, her wrists, gradually turning colder and colder as time passed. Ginny stared down at the sink miserably, watching the water flow and feeling the way her hands were freezing, as if she had been playing in the snow without gloves for too long. Ice. Cold, freezing, agonizing ice. Slowly, it was getting sore. The numbness issuing from her fingertips started creeping up her arms, right to her heart... Ginny pulled away hastily and turned the tap off, drying her aching hands on a towel. They were red raw; she could see that although there was only little light shining from a streetlamp through the window. She was shaking as she put the towel away clumsily with her throbbing hands. The glass she had taken out smashed onto the floor as she knocked it over with her elbow in process. Her heart stood still for a second, taking in the shock before starting to pump away madly, thumping against her chest painfully. Luckily enough, the splinters of glass had not penetrated through her long robes. She stepped back and heard the crunching sound of glass under her shoes. Everything seemed to be getting from bad to worse.

Ginny opened the window over the sink and let the air rush in. Although her hands were still cold as ice, her face was burning hot. The sweet summer's breeze played around her and she closed her eyes slowly. Surely, she was dreaming. Surely, she had only been having a nightmare in which she had had a row with Harry. This wasn't really true at all. But as Ginny stepped back a little, more crunching on the floor brought her crashing back to reality. She was not dreaming. She had just come back home from a silent but deadly serious fight with Harry and smashed a glass on the floor after having nearly cut off the blood circulation in her hands. Ginny blinked, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Her hand reached up to wipe them away quickly, before she started crying, but it was too late. A trembling sob escaped her as the first crystal clear, pearly tears ran down her cheeks, leaving behind a sore, burning trace. Her hand landed back on the counter next to the other and she found herself gripping it harder and harder with every tear that dropped into the sink, until she thought her hands were going to shatter like the glass had moments before. Another hiccoughing sob, accompanied by a fresh wave of tears; Ginny tried to wipe them away desolately with her sleeve but it didn't work very well. She slammed the window shut and left the kitchen, ignoring the pieces of glass on the floor. Her lounge, looking isolate and lonely, was illuminated by the faint glow of the moon through the windows and the door to the balcony. Ginny sank onto her sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest and kicking off her shoes, her tears flowing freely. She knew she would not be able to stop them anymore. Her cold hand reached up, searching for a chain around her neck and finding it rapidly; with one quick, swift movement, she managed to tear it off and flung the golden necklace with the emerald stone through the room; it landed somewhere on the carpet. She didn't care where, she didn't want to know. All that mattered right then was cowering on the sofa, knees clutched to her chest tightly, face hidden behind a mass of red hair, pressed against her thighs. After a few minutes of crying, the tears started to ebb away slowly, the sobs becoming less frequent, but Ginny was still hiding on the couch, trembling. She felt so cold...so hollow inside...words repeating in her head again and again... Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go...

A sharp crack startled her and Ginny looked up in shock. Harry was standing opposite her on the other side of the room, his emerald eyes widening and fixing upon her shaking figure in pain. Ginny scrambled up from the sofa at once, backing away towards the door that led into the small corridor, to her bedroom and bathroom, wiping her last stray tears away hastily.

"Ginny...I...oh, god..."

"Just...just get out of here, Harry," Ginny choked, turned around and ran out of the room, feeling like she was bleeding from the inside...torment...agony. She slammed the door shut behind her and grabbed the hem of her robes so it was easier to run. Her bare feet led her to the bathroom. She hurried inside and closed the door behind her quickly, locking it with the key and a muttered, "Colloporto," just to be sure he could not enter.

"Ginny!"

Sobbing, she sank onto the cold floor of the bathroom, her back leaning against the white, wooden door. She didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. She didn't want to...she didn't want to.

"Ginny, open the door!"

She could nearly feel his breath in her neck; he was standing on the other side of the door, probably crouching down, his voice soft, but urgent at the same time. Ignoring him, Ginny pulled her knees to her chest again, burying her face in her arms that were slung around them, her hair draped over her shoulders, her back, hiding her away from the sickening normality around...from the fact that he had really said what he had said... Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go...

Another sharp crack issued and Ginny looked up to find Harry kneeling down in front of her on the bathroom floor, wearing a tormented, haunted expression. His trembling hand stretched out and he tried to push aside a strand of her hair, but Ginny was too quick. She flung his hand aside angrily and, mimicking his trick, she closed her eyes and Disapparated from the bathroom into her bedroom before he could speak.

"Ginny!" he called yet again.

Lying on the floor of her bedroom, crying onto the thick, velvety carpet, Ginny heard the door of the bathroom unlocking and Harry stepping out into the corridor. She didn't have the strength to Apparate further away right then, although she wished she could... But she had nearly already splinched herself just moments before--she had felt that it had been very close.

"Ginny!"

The door to her bedroom flew open and Harry rushed in, dropping onto the floor next to her, flinging his wand aside. He tried to pull her up to a sitting position, but she wouldn't let him; she preferred crying onto the carpet than seeing his face...she preferred darkness to his shining eyes...

"Ginny, you have to listen to me," he pleaded, and she could hear the fear in his voice clearly. "I am so, so sorry, you don't know how sorry I am for what I've done, Ginny. I...please, listen to me...don't let it end like this...you have to hear me out, you have to, Ginny... I need you, I can't breathe without you...seeing you like this is like dying, I am so afraid, Ginny... Ginny..."

Ginny did not answer, trying to block out his present words, the urgency, the fear in his voice, the pain that spoke from it, blocking it all out, repeating what he had told her earlier on again and again...again and again... Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go... Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go... Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go...

"Ginny... I didn't mean what I said..."

"Have you any idea...?" Ginny choked, still crying and she felt Harry leaning closer to her, his arm around her shoulders, pressing his face into her hair.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Have you any idea of how much you hurt me?" Ginny whispered and couldn't help but sob, fresh tears welling up inside her again. "Any idea at all?"

"Ginny...I know, I'm sorry..."

"You don't know anything!" Ginny cried, pushing herself up. Or perhaps I was hoping you would just go... She got up and tried to get to the door, but Harry was quicker. He jumped up and caught her arm, his fingers closing around it securely.

"You have to hear me out, Ginny!"

"I don't have to do anything!" Ginny yelled, crying at the same time. "Let go of me this instant! I have nothing to say to you!" she shouted, trying to wrench her arm from his grip, but turning out to be unsuccessful. Harry just pulled her closer to him, laying his arms around her waist so that she was trapped. Ginny tried to push him away, cursing herself for leaving her wand lying on the floor, trying to wriggle herself free, but his grip did not break. "Damn it, Potter! Leave me alone!"

"I can't do that, Ginny," he replied silently. "It's the trait of our relationship--"

"We have no relationship!" Ginny cried, still trying to break free.

"Ginny, listen to me please," he insisted, holding her against him tightly.

"No! We've nothing to talk about!"

"Of course we do," he said quietly. "Of course we do."

Finally, Ginny gave up struggling and leant her forehead against Harry's chest so she didn't have to look at him, her hands clenched to fists, resting next to her head. "Let me go, Harry," she demanded silently.

"I will, as soon as I've said what I have to say," he replied. "Ginny, I am sorry."

"Good for you," Ginny snapped. "Will you let me go now?"

"No," he said slowly. "I'm not finished yet. I am really sorry. I don't know how to express in words how much I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't know how to. I am sorry for how I reacted, I'm sorry for behaving like that towards you, I'm sorry for what I said most of all. When I realized you had left, I suddenly found I couldn't breathe anymore... I was standing at the window, I knew that there should be air there, at the window, but I couldn't breathe...I felt numb... Then I realized what I had done."

"Very touching," Ginny replied angrily and trying to pull away again.

"Shh," Harry said, kissing her hair soothingly. "I'm not finished yet. I can't believe that his appearance could affect me the way it did, and then I took it out on you... Of all people I could take it out on, I chose you, the person that was least responsible for it, the person that told him he was wasting his time... the person that said she loved me so many times... I can't live without you, Ginny, I can't do it. You were barely gone for two minutes and already, I felt so empty inside, as if something had been yanked out of me, something terribly important, as if something was missing. Ginny, please, please, please forgive me for being the world's biggest prat, please, I beg you, please forgive me for all the shit I do, please. If you only loved me half as much as I love you...I would be the happiest person on earth...please...please."

"Harry, if I didn't love you this damn much, you could not put me into a state like this...if I didn't love you this damn much...you couldn't do this to me," Ginny sobbed quietly at his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Ginny's fists unclenched, her hands now resting peacefully against his chest as she turned her head a little to listen to his heartbeat. His hand reached up and pushed away a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear carefully. Slowly, his fingers traced the lines from the tears on her face before wiping the last ones away. Ginny caught his hand in hers, pressing it against her heart.

"Don't do that again," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry," he muttered again, pulling her even closer to him.

Ginny looked up at him and felt herself drowning in his emerald gaze immediately and she closed her eyes, wanting to block it out. Little by little, Harry bent forward and kissed her softly, hesitantly, uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure if he was still allowed to. He pulled away, and when Ginny's eyes fluttered open, she noted his shyness, but the look in her eyes seemed to reassure him. His lips brushed against hers timidly before kissing her again.

"You lost something," Harry breathed and kissed Ginny's forehead. He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the long golden necklace with the emerald stone; it looked completely intact, although she knew exactly that she had torn it apart. Brushing Ginny's hair aside, Harry put it around her neck. "I found it in the lounge."

Ginny swallowed. "I know," she said thickly, tears rolling down her cheeks again.

"Oh, Ginny... I am so, so sorry," Harry whispered to her ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her head resting at his shoulder, soft kisses calming her down slowly. "I love you. And I mean it, I've meant it every single time I've said it."

"I know," Ginny whispered back. "I love you, too."

-- The End --