I wrote this FF years ago when Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was published. At that time it was posted in Chamber of Secrets forums and you can read it here. However, before posting it here I reviewed the story and made minor changes here and there.
Summary: This is a Harry/Ginny FanFic (did the title give it away?). It’s about what Ginny was feeling during HBP. It won’t be really a POV, but we’re mostly going to be seeing everything from Ginny’s perspective.
Disclaimer: I wish I were JKR, but I’m not. I’m just borrowing the characters that she created and using them in my humble attempt at a FanFic. I’ll also use some of her text from HBP.
English is not my first language so I will appreciate if you take the time to leave feedback.
Chapter One: At the Burrow
Harry will arrive today!
The thought entered her mind as soon as she opened her eyes that morning. She got out of bed quietly, trying her best not to wake the bushy-haired girl that was sleeping next to her. She grabbed some clean clothes and marched towards the bathroom with a feeling of absolute happiness.
Ginny Weasley got under the hot water that was coming out of the shower and her thoughts went back to The Boy Who Lived.
She had been thinking a lot about Harry during the last weeks. After Sirius’ death she had seen him lost and lonely, wandering the castle by himself, uncomfortable in his own skin. She had wanted to be close to him, to be able to listen if he felt like talking or, if he didn’t, she wanted to share his silence, to offer him quiet companionship. She only wanted to be there for him.
But she knew it was not her place. He had pushed Hermione and Ron away, so there was no way he would open up to her.
She turned off the faucet with a sigh and wrapped a towel around her body, and then she used another towel to dry her long, flaming-red Weasley hair. Too bad she was not at Hogwarts, where she could use her wand to dry her hair in just a couple of seconds, she thought distractedly. Once her hair was dry, she got dressed quickly and went back to her room.
“Good morning!” greeted her a sleepy Hermione before walking out of the room, obviously on her way to the bathroom.
Ginny started to make her bed at the same time her mind once more wandered toward Harry Potter.
It was not like she was interested in him, she told herself firmly. At least, not the way she had been in previous years. She had grown up. She had taken her stupid, childish crush and buried it. There was nothing of it left. All she wanted was to be there for him, as a friend. As a friend, she repeated over and over.
She didn’t have feelings for Harry anymore. She was dating Dean Thomas, wasn’t she? Well, to be honest, it was a bit hard to tell.
When she broke up with Michael Corner, she hadn’t been at all upset because she didn’t really fancy him all that much. He had been the last step on her road to de-Harry-izing herself. She did like him and they had a lot of fun together, but he turned out to be a jerk and when the time came to move on, she had done it without a twinge of regret. Things were different with Dean.
Ginny turned around and saw her own face looking back from the wall. It was a drawing. Dean had drawn her, she thought smiling.
She suddenly found herself at the Gryffindor common room, on the last day of the school term. After the end of the year feast she had sat by the fire while everyone fussed about getting their stuff ready for the return home the next day. On that night she had been thinking about Harry as well. He had not been at the Great Hall and Ginny was wondering where he might be.
Dean had walked over to her with his sketchpad under his arm. He sat next to her and she looked at him inquiringly.
“Would you let me draw you?” he asked simply.
Ginny blinked several times in a bemused sort of way.
“Draw me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he smiled and showed her his sketchpad.
“Oh!” she smiled too. “Why me?”
He put the sketchpad and the pencils on the table in front of them and turned to Ginny.
“Because,” he said, and raising his hand he grasp a lock of Ginny’s hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen.”
Ginny was lost for words. She had never thought herself to be pretty, let alone beautiful. In fact, she had been positive that the reason Harry had never taken notice in her was because she was not beautiful at all. Especially, not by Cho Chan’s standards.
She pushed Harry out of her mind and concentrated on the boy sitting next to her. He was looking at her expectantly with his hand still holding her face. She could tell that he wanted to kiss her, and come to think of it, so did her. She smiled at him approvingly and he slowly leaned in until his lips touched hers.
It had been a very nice first kiss, she thought, smiling again. They had stayed up for hours making out and… Ginny smiled wickedly, she was pretty sure they had talked too. But he didn’t draw her that night. She had received the drawing a week after she had arrived at the Burrow. He had done it by memory and sent it to her via owl post. She had been delighted. The girl in the drawing certainly looked like her, but she was beautiful. It was thrilling to know that was the way he saw her.
Ginny and Dean had kept in touch during the last weeks. His letters were always full of plans of things they would do together when they arrived at Hogwarts. But Ginny still didn’t want to say out loud that she was dating him or that he was her boyfriend.
Well, she had done it once, but only to bother Ron. He was so annoying and he intended to control her love life. Pathetic, really. When he couldn’t manage to control his own love life. Ginny rolled her eyes. He had liked Hermione for ages, and against all odds, she seemed to like him too (Ginny shuddered at the thought of any girl finding her brother attractive). They should have started going out at least two years ago and still, he was as clueless as ever. He was hopeless.
She had told Ron about Dean on the train ride back from Hogwarts. When he found out she had broken up with Michael, he told her that next time she should choose someone better.
Her temper had instantly flared, although she had done her best not to show it, and told him, “Well, I’ve chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he’s better?”
But thinking back, she now remembered him giving Harry a meaningful look when he said someone better. Did he really think that given the choice she wouldn’t have chosen Harry? Ron was definitely clueless.
Hermione entered the room, which distracted her from her thoughts about her dim-witted brother. Hermione put her things in her trunk and faced Ginny.
“Harry is coming today,” she said plainly, but surveying Ginny attentively.
“I know, Hermione,” Ginny said dismissively.
The older girl didn’t say anything else, but gave Ginny such a knowing look that she almost wanted to slap her annoyingly smug face.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Ginny said instead. “But you are wrong, Hermione.”
“Oh! Am I?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not at all interested in Harry,” Ginny said firmly. “I was dating Michael, and now I’m…” she hesitated for a second, took a big breath and continued, “I’m dating Dean now. I can assure you, there’s nothing left of that crush.”
“If you say so,” was Hermione’s only answer.
Ginny pondered for a moment whether she should argue this point further. She really wanted to leave no doubt in Hermione’s mind about her feelings for Harry (which now were simply sisterly), but she knew that the more she tried to make her friend understand that, the less she would believe it.
Hermione and Ron were definitely a match made in heaven. One was as clueless as the other.
“How about some breakfast?” Ginny asked walking toward the door and Hermione followed her.
They entered the kitchen and were welcomed by the delicious smell of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking. She was in front of the stove waving her wand frantically getting a huge tray of breakfast ready. Sitting around the table were Fleur (or Phlegm, as Ginny preferred to call her) and Ron, whose stomach had apparently woken up early today. He was already working his way through a large plate of eggs and sausages. He barely acknowledged the girls arrival.
“Good morning!” said Ginny and Hermione.
“Ah! There you are girls,” said Mrs. Weasley gratefully. She had apparently had enough of Fleur already and was hoping for someone to arrive and divert her attention.
Hermione and Ginny sat on the table and immediately Mrs. Weasley put in front of them plates of breakfast as large as the one she had given Ron, and they dug in with enthusiasm.
There was no point in trying to talk anyway. Fleur was talking about the wedding, the only thing she talked about, and she obviously was more interested in having an audience than an interlocutor.
After a while, she paused to drink a sip of her pumpkin juice, an opportunity that was seized by Hermione.
“Mrs. Weasley,” she said before Fleur could continue with her monologue. “Do you know what time is Harry arriving?”
Mrs. Weasley turned around and looked at the teens sitting at the table.
“Oh dears!” she said abashed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but he’s already here.”
Ron and Hermione jumped to their feet exclaiming “What!” and “When?” while Ginny sank in her seat, her heart beating fast.
“Dumbledore brought him last night,” said Mrs. Weasley smiling. “He’s sleeping in the twins’ bedroom. I was about to get him some breakfast,” she pointed at the heavily laden tray.
Ron and Hermione bolted out of the kitchen without another word and Mrs. Weasley gazed at Ginny, who had remained silent on her chair.
“Aren’t you going to see Harry, dear?” she asked her daughter, giving her a piercing look.
Ginny shook her head. “Later,” she said concentrating on her breakfast. “I suppose they will need some time alone before someone else intrudes.” Her voice sounded airy, but deep inside she resented not being part of their little clique. No point in thinking about it, besides, she also needed some time to regain her composure.