Something never meant to be, everything you
meant to me, wake me when this punishment is done…
sometimes wondered if it was ever going to stop hurting properly. The day would
come, she thought, when she would wake up and things wouldn’t be as bad as they
seemed the day before.
that still hadn’t happened. Granted, it had been barely a week since the whole
episode had come to light in the Chamber itself, when Harry…Harry had saved her
life,a fact she still couldn’t comprehend.
yearned to talk about her feelings, to explain properly through any medium how
she felt. She remembered the wonderful, elating release of someone who
understood her, without question and listened to everything. Then her stomach
twisted, the familiar nausea was back and she curled up to soften the pain in
her stomach at the thought of him.
She had built up a mental image of him
during all their confidences. Taller than she, handsome, soft features that
reminded her of another brother, one with whom she could share anything. In
reality of course, he had been ink and paper – to Ginny’s knowledge at least.
She bit her lip in a vain effort to keep the tears from falling again.
The worst bit was the missing him.
The sense of loss that was irrational given the circumstances.
Ginny needed him. She needed what he
represented, a true friend, more than ever right now.
The house was still as she sat there, cold
in the kitchen, completely alone.
White noise. That was what the world was
now. No substance, nothing to tear her away from the terrible ache inside her.
She felt so unconditionally stupid. A
stupid little girl. That’s what he had called her, that’s what they all thought
about her now. They could never understand, not truly, just what had drawn her
into the trap.
Loneliness. Pure loneliness. The horrible
feeling of being a misfit, not truly bonding with anyone. Another face in the
crowd, another Weasley in the crowd at that. The confusing feelings she
harboured inside herself for Harry, the awe she felt around him and the almost
subconscious need to talk to him, to let him reveal himself to her. She buried her head in her hands, her palms
growing wet with her tears as she wondered fervently what he thought of her
Minutes passed as Ginny heard something
stir in the room opposite her. Wiping her eyes she stood and padded gently
towards the stairs, pausing to look into the living room. She felt her stomach
tug as her gaze fell on her father, leaning back in his armchair, a small
tumbler of Ogden’s resting on the arm of the seat as he stared absently into
Ginny felt something she hadn’t felt for
years - the urge to crawl into her fathers lap and cry there till there were no
more tears and everything would be alright again as long as he hugged her for
those precious moments. She stepped cautiously into the room and her fathers
gaze snapped up. He regarded her almost sadly, smiling with dull eyes.
Suddenly, her feet took over and she half
ran, half stumbled over to him and rested her head on his knees.
“I’m sorry Daddy,” she blurted out as her
body began to rack with sobs once more. She felt her father tug at her arms and
she let him pull her small form into his lap once again.
She buried her head into his shoulder and
let her tears merge with the wool of her father’s very own Weasley jumper which
she herself had helped to knit. It smelled comfortingly of home. He stroked her
back gently and Ginny couldn’t help but sob harder. She’d brought so much shame
to them, she was sure of that. Perhaps they didn’t want to tell her but she
knew she had.
“Oh Ginny,” she heard her father say
softly, his voice rumbling against her cheek.
She couldn’t speak. She didn’t think he
wanted an answer.
After a long while, her sobs ceased. She
sniffed slightly, hiccups, echoes of sobs gently rocking her chest.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine
that she was five again. She started as her father began to sing something,
something so quiet she wasn’t even sure he was singing it and something she
couldn’t quite place at first. Then it clicked. (A
tune she had loved when she was a toddler, that her dad would sing to her to
persuade her to sleep, or at least try to. His
little Ginny who loved life so much, she
never wanted to sleep. Sleep meant less time with her family. Her family who
babied her like nothing on earth.
She sighed softly and burrowed deeper,
feeling drowsy for the first time in days. It was so warm there, in her fathers
Arthur Weasley smiled softly as his
daughter drifted off into sleep. He touched her hand that rested on his
shoulder and remembered the first time one of those little fingers had wrapped
round his own and gently squeezed.
His baby girl, his daughter, his darling…
It had been years since she’d come to him
like this. He moved one arm out from under hers, gently, so not to wake her,
and pushed his glasses to the end of his nose. He wiped at his eyes.
After a moment he set his arm back where it
had been. Quietly, he resumed his song, looking down at the mop of red hair
that fanned out over his chest.
She smiled in her sleep.
Song lyrics © Foo Fighters “The One”