The Pull of the Moon

The Pull of the Moon

"Ginny? Are you ok?"

"Huh? Oh, yea, I'm fine, just kind of tired," replied Ginny, finishing with a large and rather unconvincing yawn. Seamus looked at her suspiciously.

"You sure your not sick or something? Your eyes were all glazed over, and you were just starting off into space..." said Seamus, whose last words faded as he looked in the direction of Ginny's gaze, which happened to be centered on a small boy with dark hair and bright green eyes. "Oh, I see. Well, don't mind me! I'll get out of your way- I wouldn't dream of obstructing your view." And Seamus sauntered off, a liberal smirk spread across his sandy colored face. Ginny's cheeks flushed red, partly form embarrassment that her infatuation with Harry was so obvious, and partly from anger at Seamus.

She took one more look at Harry, who, coincidentally, was also staring at someone of the opposite sex. A black haired, brown eyed, beautiful and popular someone. Ginny balled her hands into fists, trying to banish the nasty, squirming feeling of jealousy out of her stomach. Noticing a familiar burning in her eyes, Ginny abandoned her untouched toast and jam and fled from the Great Hall.

She was breathing hard by the time she reached her dormitory, and her barely withheld tears were now rolling down her cheek. She collapsed onto her bed and hugged a pillow close, trying to take some comfort from its softness and warmth. Why is life so unfair? She thought, great sobs escaping her chest. Why do I have to be in love with someone who will never love me? Who doesn't even think of me? Nobody understands what I'm going through. They think it's a crush, or a short-lived infatuation. They don't realize how strong my feelings are, that with every glance at Cho Chang, and every word he doesn't say to me, he's tearing me apart! My friends have told me to forget him, to 'get over it'. I would give anything to be able to do that! To just dispel my love as if it were a feather on my heart, instead of a giant weight which is close to destroying me. But I can't. I can't not love him. He is a part of me, even if I am not a part of him.

Ginny had stopped crying, although her hands shook as she brushed the hair from her eyes. She made to get up, but had to grasp her bedpost for support, least she lose herself again in trembling and tears.

I can't go on like this. Every night I cry, or else I become so enraged that I must lock myself in the bathroom to keep from hitting Cho, or even Harry! My grades are dropping, and my friends say I look pale. I have to do something, or else I fear I will fall into sadness, unable to get up again.

Ginny suddenly leapt up and threw her pillow at a mirror on the wall, which fell and shattered as it hit the ground.

"Why can't he just love me?" screamed Ginny aloud into the empty room. "I have done everything to make myself appealing, and nothing has even gotten his attention! I have nothing left to try! Why can't you just love me, god damn it!"

She made to grab another pillow, when her eyes caught sight of a small book hidden behind the headboard of her bed. It was her diary. Ginny froze, unable to take her eyes off of it, remembering something she had written years ago. Slowly, she reached for the leather bound book, now completely full of entries. She had kept it ever since she was seven years old, and had stopped at her fifthteenth birthday, when she had filled up the last page. That had been almost a year ago.

Her fingers trembling anew, Ginny flipped to a date that just surfaced in her mind - February thirteenth, 1994. There it was, just like she remembered it. Written in pink ink, and still smelling faintly of roses. It was the recipe of a potion she had found in a spell book in an old dusty cupboard in Flourish and Blots.

Dear Diary,

You won't believe what I found today! I was looking through some old books in Diagon Alley (There was a Hogsmeade visit) and I came across this potion. It's really easy to make, and look at what it does:

The Temptress's Delight

Ingredients: Three tablespoons dried and crushed violets

One bleeding heart blossom, soaked in honey

One fourth of a cup Koralorie juice, strained

Two tablespoons lacewigs

If the person you want to enspell is male, add one crushed rose thorn. If the person is female, add one dried rose petal.

Add all of the ingredients in a small cauldron, and boil until potion is at a deep red. While brewing, you must recite the following incantation, replacing your full name where "name of Temptress" is written: "Amendrea alo Torent en "Name of Temptress". The person you want to enchant must ingest all of the potion within one hour after its preparation, or else the potion will neutralize itself, and it will have no effect. If ingested within the time limit, however, the brew will cause intense love from the enchanted towards the temptress, no matter what his/her initial feelings were. However, it must be remembered that this potion works only on the night of the full moon in February, and is ineffective at all other times. This night was the ancient time for love, and was once the most sacred holiday. Even without any potions, this night is magical. It is said that the rays of the moon can unearth buried feelings of affection. "The Temptress's Delight" was originally invented so that single men and women would not go lonely on this evening of merriment. The potion is most potent at exactly midnight, or the instant when the moon is at its brightest.

I thought love potions were illegal? But, oh my gosh, if they weren't, what if I used it on Harry! I wouldn't, of course. It would be wrong. But still. Well, I have to go, George says he has something to show me...I hope its not some prank valentine, or I'll kill him! I'll write again soon.

Ginny

Ginny kept staring at the page, her mind racing. Is this my answer? A love potion? She reread the words, "I thought love potions were illegal". They are illegal, thought Ginny, her heart pounding. If I made one, I would be thrown out of Hogwarts and most likely fined... If I was caught.

Ginny closed the diary and slipped it under her bed. Could I do this? Trick the man that I love into wanting me for one night? Ginny shot a glance at the astronomy chart on her desk. The full moon was the next night. Is that a coincidence? That just when I'm at the breaking point, I remember a long forgotten love potion, which can only be brewed with success tomorrow night? Ginny went to the bathroom and poured herself a glass of cold water, drank it in one gulp, and refilled her cup. If I do this, if I really gave Harry this potion, he would wake the next morning and realize what had happened. He would hate me then, more, even, than Draco or Snape. I would have deceived him; I would make him give his first kiss to a girl he did not love. And that would be the end. I wouldn't have to tiptoe around him, wondering if he felt for me how I felt for him. I would know.

Ginny closed her eyes, picturing his handsome face with its tousled black hair, and wondered what those eyes would look like once they were full of spite and loathing. Is it worth it? I could get his love, but would also receive his hate. Would I be able to lose my desire for him then, when he believed me a temptress and sinner? Yet, could I not do this? It is my only chance at his affection. He is leaving school next year, and I will never see him again. There wouldn't be a second full moon for me to work this magic. Could I live with myself, knowing I passed up my only chance at a kiss from him, even if it is the only one I would ever receive? Could I betray him?

Ginny thought of several years ago, when she had sent Harry a singing valentine, which he had despised. She thought of Fred and George teasing her about her 'crush', not understanding anything at all. She thought of Cho, who had the one thing Ginny would die for. She thought of all the nights she spent crying, all the sheets she had ruined when she ripped them up in despair. She thought of a life in which she tricked the man she craved into loving her, and then hating her. She thought of a life without even one kiss from Harry. A single tear cascaded down her cheek. Yes. Yes, I could.

* * *

The next day dawned a brilliant pink, with dew sprinkled along the grounds and a wet mist that obscured the sunrise's pastel colors. Ginny woke as the light touched her face, creeping in from her bedside window. As her eyelids fluttered opened, Ginny thought one thing; today I betray the man I love. It was the day before the full moon, and the ingredients for The Temptress's Delight were hidden in a locked chest by Ginny's bureau. She rose and dressed mechanically, then went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, although she knew she couldn't eat. Everything seemed foggy, and she ignored several people that she thought might have said, 'hi' to her. Her mind revolved around only one thing this day. Ginny turned around a corner, which she just barely managed not to collide with, and stopped dead. She was face to face with Harry, who looked surprised to see her. Ginny's heart stopped, and she found herself caught in those green eyes, unable to move or even speak. She hadn't seen Harry since that morning in the Great Hall.

"Hi," said Harry quickly, and Ginny saw that he was blushing. I'm embarrassing him, thought Ginny, who realized too late that she had been staring blatantly at him.

"Er, it's a nice day out-" began Harry again, but stopped as Ginny rushed past him, her breath raged and her teeth clenched. I can't do this. What the hell was I thinking? He doesn't even like me, and he still tries not to hurt me! How could I even dream of betraying him? But then she saw Cho coming out of the huge double doors of the Great Hall, and she clenched her hands so hard she cut the insides of her palms with her fingernails. Ginny, get a grip! You don't have a choice, you have to do this. Give yourself a night of bliss to quench your hunger for him, then earn his hate so you can banish your love! It's your only option, or else you will sink into a hole you will never be able to get out of. But a tiny voice in her head kept whispering, You'll hurt him, You'll hurt him, find another way. But Ginny ignored that voice and walked into the great hall, looking straight ahead of her, trying hard not to catch a glimpse of Cho.

Ginny, as she had suspected, ate nothing for breakfast, or indeed for lunch either. By dinnertime, she was so nervous she could barely breath. She decided not even to make an appearance at the Great Hall, but just go upstairs, magically lock the door to her dormitory, and prepare the potion.

Two minutes later, Ginny found herself sitting on her floor with several pouches of ingredients and a cauldron in front of her. She flipped through the diary, which she had fished from behind her bed, until again it rested on the page containing The Temptress's Delight. Ginny followed the instructions to the letter, reciting the incantation and simmering the cauldron over a conjured fire until the potion was as red as blood. She glanced at the clock sitting on her bedside table. Eight-fifteen. She had one hour to get Harry to drink the entire concoction. She poured the steaming liquid into a mug, careful not to spill even one drop on the floor.

Standing up, she held the potion in both hands and took a deep breath. You must do this. Ginny reminded herself, tapping her fingers nervously against the cup. You must hurt him to save yourself. It is wrong, but it's the only way. Even if it will make him hate you. Ginny savagely wiped her eyes, willing the tears away. It's too late, I can't back out now. Quickly, before she could think about it more, she rushed out of her dormitory in search of Harry, almost knocking into Hermoine as she left the common room.

Ginny went first to the Great Hall, hoping that Harry was still eating dinner. A quick scan of the Hall, however, told her he had finished. Not all that surprised, Ginny made for the Library, only to find that he was missing from there as well. A little worried, Ginny left to search the quiditch field, then the owlery, then the trophy room. Ginny was very nervous now. How much time do I have left? In her excitement, Ginny had forgotten her watch in her dormitory. Desperate, Ginny went to check the common room, thinking that he might be studying or chatting with Ron. As she climbed through the portrait hole, she was wonderfully relieved to see a black haired head peeping up from the top of a huge armchair by the fire. Ginny checked the clock above the mantelpiece, which read eight thirty nine. Ginny furrowed her brow, puzzled. Surely she had spent more than twenty minutes searching? But, then again, nerves can warp time, making the day race by or crawl along, depending on what is to come.

Ginny composed herself, trying to prepare for what she was about to do. This is it. No way out now. After he swallows, he will become totally infatuated with me, at least for tonight. The thought made Ginny shiver, both from pleasure and fear. Slowly, deliberately, Ginny made her way over to Harry, and tapped him on the back.

"Oh, hi!" exclaimed Harry, his cheeks red once more. He hasn't forgotten yesterday then. Thought Ginny, feeling her own cheeks color.

"Hi Harry. Um, I made this, this apple cider today, and was wondering if it was any good. I thought I could send some back to mum, you know, see if she wants the recipe." Said Ginny, holding the mug out to Harry. She knew that her lie was incredibly flimsy, but she just couldn't think of a better one, and had decided earlier just to pray that Harry would be nice and drink it.

"Oh, I'm sure its good!" replied Harry, eagerly taking the cup from Ginny. His kindness made Ginny want to grab the potion back, tell him everything, beg him to forgive her for even dreaming of enchanting him. But she knew she couldn't do that, and a second later, Harry had drained the mug, his eyes wide with amazement.

Ginny eyed him nervously. Further investigation of her diary had informed her that the potion would work instantly, and that its magical origin would be masked by the presence of the crushed violets. Either way, Ginny was anxious. Suppose he could tell it was a potion, or she had somehow passed the one-hour time limit? Harry looked up at her, his eyes sparkling in a way she had never seen them before.

"Its wonderful, Ginny. Honestly, you're talented. Did you make up the recipe?" Harry was blushing like crazy, and Ginny felt her heart break. It worked.

"Oh, er, yea, I did. And, Harry-" Ginny bent close to him to whisper in his ear, unconscious of the stares and giggles she was receiving. She was in her own world. Her next words would cement her betrayal, would make it real. She had to force them out of her mouth, had to work to make them audible.

"Will you meet me out in the rose garden tonight at midnight? There's something I want to tell you." Ginny held her breath, praying he would say both 'yes' and 'no'.

"Of course I will. There's, there's something I want to tell you too." Ginny let out a shuddering breath, and nodded her head; she didn't trust herself to speak. Harry looked away, embarrassed once more, and Ginny fled upstairs, ignoring the pointing and muttering. I can't believe I just did that. Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into? Ginny looked into the mirror, and saw a conniving, scheming girl staring back at her. But it's too late for that. You've tricked him, and you can't take it back. Now all you have left to do is make this night as wonderful as possible, before the truth comes out at sunrise. Nodding to herself, Ginny made for the bathroom, deciding that the thing that would soothe her frayed nerves the best would be a hot shower. Ginny removed her long black robes, discarding them in a corner, and stepped gratefully under the near boiling water surging from the showerhead.

Clouds of steam were soon rising around Ginny, and as the hot water trickled down her breasts and back, she forgot all the fears and uncertainties that had knotted themselves in her mind. They went seeping down into the drain, washed away alongside sweat and dirt, leaving Ginny feeling clean, and letting her drift off into a land of fantasy. Smiling with giddy happiness, she washed her hair and skin with lavender soap until the scent filled the room. Long after her hands turned soft and supple, Ginny stepped out of the shower, drying herself with huge cotton towels.

Ginny felt dazed, like in a trance, moving on impulse and without thought. Clad in a sheer bathrobe, Ginny descended into her room, ready to begin her transformation. She had dreamed of her first kiss ever since she was old enough to appreciate fairy tales, and she wanted the experience to be as mystical for her as it was for the fairies and princesses in the stories. She first removed a necklace from a bejeweled wooden box on her bureau. It was long and silver, with tiny specks of crystal embedded in the links. She fastened it around her neck, shivering with a kind of sensual pleasure at the shock of cold metal above her breasts.

Finding her brush on the table, Ginny began combing her long, autumn locks. She felt surreal, and she hardly knew what she was doing- her head seemed clouded with the scent of lavender. She soon lost herself to the rhythm of the strokes, parallel to her beating heart. On and on she brushed, until her hair turned smooth and shone like the setting sun reflected in a pool of water.

As night came upon the castle, Ginny slowly began to come out of her dream world, feeling the cold wind eddying around her half naked body. She realized that it was getting late, and that she should hurry. But even as she moved towards her bureau, she felt like she was standing still, or that she wasn't in her body; that she was watching from up high, or down below. It was something about how the moon shone in through the window, something about its eerie rays casting shadows on the walls, illuminating shapes and creating patterns.

Trying vainly to regain her senses and focus, Ginny went to her chest, unlocking it with a silver key she had hidden under a floorboard. With shaking hands, Ginny pulled back several folds of satin, revealing the very bottom contents of the chest. It was a dress, pure white and shimmering like mother of pearl. It was long and flowing, and embodied the very essence of moonshine. It was a family heirloom given to her by her mother, its origins too old to track.

Ginny undressed and slipped it on, and gasped as she turned to look at her reflection, which she had not seen at all that day. Ginny had never considered herself beautiful, or even pretty, but she could honestly say that the person staring out of the mirror was the most gorgeous sight Ginny had ever laid eyes on. Her red hair, usually so gaudy and unattractive, now looked striking and feminine, laying in loose curls down her back. Delicate silk trim played along her low neckline, showing off her maturing body. Her pale skin was aglow in the soft moonlight, which filled the room from the open window. Everything about her was utterly radiant, as if she was shinning from an inner flame. All but her eyes, which remained dark. But they, too, were not as they had been. They were still the deep brown Ginny considered plain, but they were different, darker. They were seductive.

Ginny shivered, looking away from the mirror. Was this part of the potion as well, that she too thought herself beautiful? Ginny never imagined that her treasured dress could transform her so completely. She looked older, and beautiful. She looked like a woman. But would Harry think so? Ginny wished bitterly that she hadn't given him the potion, that he could see her like this when his head wasn't clouded with magic. But the only reason he even agreed to meet you was because of that potion. He wouldn't look twice at you, no matter what dress you were wearing.

Ginny glanced at her watch, which read eleven thirty-five. Ginny wanted to be in the garden before Harry, so she decided to leave. As quietly as she could, Ginny crept out of her dormitory, down the stairs, out of the portrait hole to the common room, and then outside onto the grounds. She hadn't even made the floorboards creak, and wondered if that too was because of this magical night. Ginny made her way to the rose garden, the damp grass wetting her bare feet.

As she passed through the huge arch, which signified the entrance into the garden, she saw a shadowy figure among a clump of white roses. Ginny stopped short, backing away as much as she dared. Would a gardener be out so late? But as the figure moved into a ray of moonlight, she realized it was Harry, dressed, rather unromantically, in a black bathrobe and pajamas. So I didn't beat him here after all. Even in his casual attire, Harry was stunningly handsome, his dark hair and robes standing out against the pale flowers.

"Ginny," breathed Harry, as if he'd waited his whole life to say that her name. "Oh Ginny, you're...you're so beautiful." He smiled at her, and took a step toward her. Ginny moved toward him as well, the pain in her heart growing the closer she got to him. I've betrayed him. All that he says to me is a lie, he doesn't believe any of it. But those thoughts didn't stop her from letting him embrace her, his hands stroking her unbound hair.

"Ginny, I've wanted to tell you for so long. I've been trying to hide it, I was embarrassed. But, something about this night made me want to tell you, compelled me to say- Ginny, Ginny I love you!"

His words rang in her ears, the sweetest thing they had ever heard. I've waited six years to hear him say that. I was willing even to make them a lie, if only he would say them to me.

"I love you, too," whispered Ginny, so softly that she wasn't sure Harry had heard her.

"I, I think I've loved you ever since fourth year, or maybe even earlier. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before; I don't know why I didn't. I guess because you were Ron's little sister, and you were a year younger. Do you forgive me?" Harry held Ginny's face away from his, looking down into her eyes, his entire body waiting for her response.

"Oh, of course I do!" exclaimed Ginny, lost, uncontrollably, in the green depths of his eyes. Harry smiled, and before Ginny could say another word, he had pressed his lips against hers and kissed her. Ginny felt her whole body melt, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her own lips back against his. She had dreamed about her first kiss being from Harry, wondering what it would be like to have his arms wrapped around her waist and his mouth against hers. But none of her dreams had come anywhere close to this. It was simple ecstasy; her body was lit with a white fire that wanted to explode out of her into a million sparkling stars. She had been nervous before, thinking that she wouldn't know what to do, how to react. But she found she knew already - she just had to enjoy it. This night is more than perfect- the moon, the roses, his kiss. If only the sun would never rise, and we could stay in this paradise forever!

She felt his lips come away from hers, and couldn't bear the thought of their absence. She leaned upwards and kissed him again. She could feel his surprise and his pleasure, and all Ginny wanted to do was stay there and kiss him, kiss him and hold him until time faded away into nothing and the world consisted of only her and Harry.

But something kept her from that, something was tugging at her, trying to dull the delight she was in. This is a lie. A trick. He doesn't love you, he's enchanted. This is your dream, not his. If he had his way, Cho would be standing where you are right now, sharing his first kiss. You have betrayed him, and he will hate you for it.

Ginny broke into tears even as Harry kissed her, and she pulled away from him. I can't do this. I love him, I love him! How could I deceive him so? I don't deserve this kiss, or his love, or even his kindness. WHAT HAVE I DONE?

"Oh Harry!" cried Ginny, backing away from him. "I'm so sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry!" And Ginny ran as fast as she could away from the garden, taking no head that her dress was ripping along the hem, or that Harry was calling her name.

Tears streamed down her face, and Ginny didn't have the strength to wipe them away. All she would do was run, run until she lay face down in her own bed, sobbing harder than ever she had done before. Before sleep claimed her, Ginny could think only one thing; I deserve his hate.

* * *

Ginny woke with a headache, her eyes red and swollen. Everything seemed gray and dull, like she was looking at the world through a glass of dirty water. Ginny remembered the night before as clearly as if she had just returned from the garden, and even thinking Harry's name made her cringe. She looked out her window, and saw that the sun was just barely coming over the horizon. Ginny felt a huge black void swallow her up. So it's too late even to try and make amends. He knows, and it will be a few scant hours before he wakes to find me.

Ginny just kept staring out of her window, beyond tears. My life is over. Harry doesn't love me, he hates me, and is justified in doing so. It is totally with in his power to tell Dumbledore that I entranced him with an illegal potion, in which case I will be expelled. Everyone will turn against me, and it will be a long while before I am forgiven, even by my closest friends. And worst of all, I still love him. Even knowing that he will loathe me, I still love him. I will have to live with this guilt until I grow old, as I will live with the love I have for him.

Ginny got up and went down to the common room, wanting to get away from the smell of crushed violets, which still lingered in the air. But as she came down the stairs, she saw that Hermione was sitting in a huge chair by the fire, reading a book. She raised her head in surprise as a floorboard under Ginny's feet squeaked.

"Ginny, what are you doing up so early on a weekend! And, wow, what is that you're wearing?" But Ginny was looking above Hermionie at the clock on the mantelpiece, which read eight ten.

"Hermione," said Ginny in a chocked voice, "Why does the clock say it's eight, when I just saw the sun rise?"

"Oh, that was just Seamus and Dean playing pranks. They set the clocks back an hour. I saw them do it right after you left for dinner last night. I think they wanted a later curfew or some silly thing like that. They did a good job, too, I still can't figure out how to get it right!"

But Hermione's words were lost to Ginny, who was trying to recall the events of the previous night. 'Just after you went to dinner'. I had checked my watch, which had the correct time, before I went to the Great Hall, but I used the common room clock to see if I had been searching for over an hour. But Seamus and Dean had set the clocks back by then, meaning I had been away for one hour and twenty minutes, and the potion would have been ineffective. Ginny slowly turned her head to stare at the door to the boy's dormitory, unable to breath. Just then, a black-haired, green-eyed boy let out a huge yawn, pulled back the curtains to his bed, and fumbled around looking for his glasses. He finally found them on his bedside table, and as he hooked them around his ears, the world around him lost its blurriness and came into sharp, clear focus.