Control

Harry glumly situated himself on the tatty carpeting of the Gryffindor common room, slightly depressed that he had once again been talked into playing another round of Truth or Dare. He situated himself beside Ron, as if to guard himself from the imminent embarrassment that would surely come his way. Ron began whispering good ideas for dares into Harry's ear.

"What if we dared Hermione to...to...no. She will hex us until our noses bleed if we try anything on her." Ron glanced around the room. "Oh! We should dare Ginny to act like she has an invisible twin! She will have to sit and talk to it and always include it in her answers and dares and whatever. She is always acting like she is the third member of Fred and George's exclusive club, so this will serve her right!" The boys collapsed in a fit of giggles collectively imagining Ginny conversing with thin air. Harry looked over at her and laughed harder: she would be so angry with them after the game.

Suddenly, Ginny bounded to the stairwell, as though leaving the common room and the game. Confused, Ron called out to her to stop, and Harry chimed in his agreement that she should stay. Though he hated to think it, and would die before admitting it, he knew that he affected Ginny. From the moment she started swallowing her words around him at the Burrow the summer before second year, Harry knew that he held some sort of intangible power over her. It was moments like this when he exercised it. He didn't purposefully want to torment her, but the idea of watching Lavendar chatting with nothing wasn't quite as amusing as the mental image he had of Ginny asking her "twin" if she should answer the question or take the dare.

Just as he suspected, Ginny turned and rejoined the game, her slow gait whispering reluctance.

Why does she do it? Why does she do everything that I ask of her? Why not just look at me and say no? She knows what is going to happen...Harry's thoughts got away from him, but he was brought back to earth with a sudden windfall to the chest when he heard his name mentioned in a dare.

"Give Harry a kiss--full on, full tongue--Ginny." Harry stared at his shoelaces. Why were they doing this to him? He never asked embarrassing questions or dares--he barely even spoke during these games. He continued to stare at the floor, not knowing how to react. Knowing Ginny's older brother and his best friend was sitting right beside him did not ease his decision making process in the least. He twirled his shoelace around his finger and thought how the action resembled the process of noose-making.

He looked up at Ron, searching his friend's face for a clue of how to proceed. Ron's freckles revealed nothing to him. He turned to Ginny, attempting to send the message of Hey, I am embarrassed, too! with his smile, even though he knew their embarrassment was of two totally different types. The smile slid off his face as he watched her, and thoughts that would haunt him ever after sidled into his brain.

Oh, Merlin. Am I really going to have to kiss her? Is this really going to happen? Ginny's voice interrupts his internal interview. She is staring at him hard, demanding his attention. When she says no, his face falls into his lap. She runs up the stairs and out of view. He looks again at the noose wrapping around is finger.

He thought that he should feel relieved, happy even. Harry continued to think about this shift: the cracking of that intangible power that he once held over her. Harry had controlled what happened, or did not happen. Now, Ginny had made the decision. She had been in control, and she had said no.

Harry's mind reeled, trying to wrap itself around the idea that he had lost control, Ginny had taken control, and that Ginny had said no. He wrapped the shoe lace around his finger over and over. He finally looked up at the entrance to the stone staircase, thinking briefly about running after her, making the decision himself--kissing her. But, no. He couldn't do that either...she had him totally in her grasp. She had run up the girls' staircase. There was no way that he could follow her. The staircase would simply spit him back out, reject him. The same way Ginny just had.