FIC--Wallowing in Self-Pity, part six
Jul. 19th, 2007 09:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficsbydeenasTitle: Wallowing in Self-Pity
Chapter Six
Chapter Rating:R for language
Chapter Pairing: HP/OFC
Summary: Too many things have gone wrong. Too many people have suffered, even though the battle is won. A self-imposed exile is all he thinks he deserves.
PART SIX
"Oh now, that's a lovely colour on you, Harry," Claire announced as she held up a purple shirt against his chest. "Let's get that one!"
How Harry had ever allowed Claire to take him shopping was beyond him. He'd recently got a new job and needed a few new shirts. Claire, true to her nature, decided that she was the one who should help in that area.
"Purple? No. Definitely not. I prefer green," he muttered and pulled the shirt off his chest.
"But you don't need anymore green! You have loads of green t-shirts and all those jerseys with the lion on them and not to mention the hideous jumpers that are just lying around in your wardrobe."
Harry glared down at Claire. "They are not hideous," he seethed.
Claire's eyes widened as she tried to say something. Before she could utter a single word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door of the shop. He was so focused on his shoes, that he didn't notice the young woman entering the shop until they bumped into each other, sending her toppling to the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry—"
"Watch where the bloody hell you're going!"
He knew that voice. He dreamt about that voice and it was the same one that haunted his dreams and filled his nightmares.
"G-Ginny?" He barely recognized his own voice as he spoke and lifted his head to find the flame red hair falling loose from her head. His stomach tied itself up in knots.
"Harry?"
Their eyes met and before either of them could say anything, the moment was broken by someone clearing their throat. Both of them turned to Claire.
"Pardon me, but am I interrupting something?" Claire asked, an eyebrow arched inquisitively.
"YES!" they both shouted, turning to look at each other again.
Without thinking of where he was or that Claire was standing three feet from him, Harry did the unthinkable. He kissed Ginny. It was a bloody good kiss, too. She melted into him and he held her face in his hands, just like he had before. Kissing her was like breathing—it was essential for life.
He reluctantly pulled away from her and stared at her heavily-lidded eyes. He heard Claire clear her throat again, making him feel annoyingly small.
"I…er, well, I need to get going," Harry stammered and left the shop. When both Ginny and Claire shouted after him, he didn’t turn around and grabbed the first cab he could find and went home.
He knew he was a coward. He knew that Claire would attack him the next time she saw him. He feared that Ginny would hex Claire and make bat bogeys fly out of Claire's face, wizarding laws be damned. All he managed to do was pace around the flat and mutter to himself, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
Why did he have to run into Ginny? Why was she even in Muggle London? Why did he have to be with Claire? Why the bloody hell did it taste so good kissing Ginny?
He suddenly wished he hadn't dumped all the liquor down the drain after Christmas. He hadn't had a drink in two months, and he could really use one about now. He was just about to grab a can of Coke from the refrigerator when there was a pounding on the door.
Damn. He knew it would be Claire.
Instead, upon opening the door, he saw someone he thought he'd never see standing on his doorstep.
Ginny Weasley.
Damn, she looked good.
"Leave, Ginny," he muttered, trying to shut the door in her face. She was too quick and pulled her wand on him, pointing it at his face.
"Don't you dare try to shut me out!"
"Put that damned thing away!" He pulled her inside and slammed the door. "What the hell are you thinking?" He grabbed her wand and tossed it to the side, sending the sounds of clattering wood across the room.
Out of nowhere, she slapped him across the face and summoned her wand. "Don't you EVER disarm me! Isn't that one of the first things you taught me?" She resumed pointing her wand at him.
Harry, despite his instincts telling him to fight, merely crumpled onto the floor as if he'd had a chair pulled out from under him.
"Please, just go, Ginny," he whispered.
"Some Gryffindor you are, Potter. All the fight's gone out of you." Her voice was softer this time, more like the Ginny he knew. "What's happened to you, Harry?" She sunk down onto her knees beside him.
"Life's happened, Ginny. I've watched people I cared about be killed before my eyes. I've watched as my best friend nearly bleed to death because he chose to follow me," he said, pausing to will the image of Ron out of his head. "I've seen things no one should have had to see at my age. I just can't do it anymore."
"Don't you think we would have helped you through it all? That's what a family does, Harry."
"I have no family! My parents were killed because of me! My godfather died because I was stupid! Dumbledore—"
"STOP! I've heard it all before, Harry." Ginny crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. "So how long have you and Claire—"
"You talked to her?" He was flabbergasted.
"Yes, we did. I had to tell her something after you kissed me like that." She eyed him cautiously, as if she were figuring out how exactly to approach him. "I have to admit though, Harry, that your technique has improved a helluva lot in the past few months. That was some kiss."
Harry could only snort in response.
"So how much does she know?" she asked.
"Nothing. And I plan to keep it that way, too, Ginny."
"So she has no idea who you are, what you've done or basically anything about you?" she inquired. "If I were her, I'd be pissed that you don't tell me anything about your past."
"Believe me, I am."
Both Harry and Ginny turned to see Claire standing inside the door. Harry tried to stand up, but his legs had fallen asleep as he sat on the floor and it was terribly painful to move them.
"Claire…I, er, there's just some things I can't tell you about."
"Humph. Seems you've been doing a lot of that lately, Harry," Claire flatly stated. Harry didn't like her tone at all. "So is she the Ginny you screamed for in your sleep the other night?"
Harry looked away from her and found his eyes automatically drift toward Ginny, who now wore a slight blush on her cheeks. He could think of no answer that would satisfy either of them and merely nodded.
"And Ron? What about him?" Claire shouted.
"You never even told her about Ron? What about Hermione?"
"Who are they, Harry? And why would the name Fred make you cry?"
"He's keeping secrets, Claire, about people who were important to him. I don't think your relationship is exactly what you think it is," Ginny shot back harshly.
"Don't you dare assume to think you know about what my relationship with him is like! And who do you think you are, you freckled, dowdy bitch!"
Harry felt untapped magic surge through his body, something he hadn't felt in a long time. The power built up inside and despite his best efforts to control the accidental magic, it exploded in a gust of wind that knocked Claire over onto her backside, caused Ginny to fall backwards, and upturned the furniture. Once it stopped, Harry began shaking in both fear and cold. He could do nothing but stare off into space and rock back and forth.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Claire asked in a shaky voice, looking to Ginny for an answer. "What's wrong with him?" She waved a hand in front of his eyes, but it did nothing to grab his attention.
"Claire…I—I can't explain it to you. Maybe you should go…"
"I am not leaving him like this! We need to get him to hospital!" She reached for Harry's phone and began dialing the emergency number. Before she could finish, the phone flew out of her hand and into Ginny's. "What--?"
"I'm sorry, Claire, but you really don't understand…"
Ginny waved her wand and sent the other woman into a deep, deep sleep.
Chapter Six
Chapter Rating:R for language
Chapter Pairing: HP/OFC
Summary: Too many things have gone wrong. Too many people have suffered, even though the battle is won. A self-imposed exile is all he thinks he deserves.
"Oh now, that's a lovely colour on you, Harry," Claire announced as she held up a purple shirt against his chest. "Let's get that one!"
How Harry had ever allowed Claire to take him shopping was beyond him. He'd recently got a new job and needed a few new shirts. Claire, true to her nature, decided that she was the one who should help in that area.
"Purple? No. Definitely not. I prefer green," he muttered and pulled the shirt off his chest.
"But you don't need anymore green! You have loads of green t-shirts and all those jerseys with the lion on them and not to mention the hideous jumpers that are just lying around in your wardrobe."
Harry glared down at Claire. "They are not hideous," he seethed.
Claire's eyes widened as she tried to say something. Before she could utter a single word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door of the shop. He was so focused on his shoes, that he didn't notice the young woman entering the shop until they bumped into each other, sending her toppling to the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry—"
"Watch where the bloody hell you're going!"
He knew that voice. He dreamt about that voice and it was the same one that haunted his dreams and filled his nightmares.
"G-Ginny?" He barely recognized his own voice as he spoke and lifted his head to find the flame red hair falling loose from her head. His stomach tied itself up in knots.
"Harry?"
Their eyes met and before either of them could say anything, the moment was broken by someone clearing their throat. Both of them turned to Claire.
"Pardon me, but am I interrupting something?" Claire asked, an eyebrow arched inquisitively.
"YES!" they both shouted, turning to look at each other again.
Without thinking of where he was or that Claire was standing three feet from him, Harry did the unthinkable. He kissed Ginny. It was a bloody good kiss, too. She melted into him and he held her face in his hands, just like he had before. Kissing her was like breathing—it was essential for life.
He reluctantly pulled away from her and stared at her heavily-lidded eyes. He heard Claire clear her throat again, making him feel annoyingly small.
"I…er, well, I need to get going," Harry stammered and left the shop. When both Ginny and Claire shouted after him, he didn’t turn around and grabbed the first cab he could find and went home.
He knew he was a coward. He knew that Claire would attack him the next time she saw him. He feared that Ginny would hex Claire and make bat bogeys fly out of Claire's face, wizarding laws be damned. All he managed to do was pace around the flat and mutter to himself, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
Why did he have to run into Ginny? Why was she even in Muggle London? Why did he have to be with Claire? Why the bloody hell did it taste so good kissing Ginny?
He suddenly wished he hadn't dumped all the liquor down the drain after Christmas. He hadn't had a drink in two months, and he could really use one about now. He was just about to grab a can of Coke from the refrigerator when there was a pounding on the door.
Damn. He knew it would be Claire.
Instead, upon opening the door, he saw someone he thought he'd never see standing on his doorstep.
Ginny Weasley.
Damn, she looked good.
"Leave, Ginny," he muttered, trying to shut the door in her face. She was too quick and pulled her wand on him, pointing it at his face.
"Don't you dare try to shut me out!"
"Put that damned thing away!" He pulled her inside and slammed the door. "What the hell are you thinking?" He grabbed her wand and tossed it to the side, sending the sounds of clattering wood across the room.
Out of nowhere, she slapped him across the face and summoned her wand. "Don't you EVER disarm me! Isn't that one of the first things you taught me?" She resumed pointing her wand at him.
Harry, despite his instincts telling him to fight, merely crumpled onto the floor as if he'd had a chair pulled out from under him.
"Please, just go, Ginny," he whispered.
"Some Gryffindor you are, Potter. All the fight's gone out of you." Her voice was softer this time, more like the Ginny he knew. "What's happened to you, Harry?" She sunk down onto her knees beside him.
"Life's happened, Ginny. I've watched people I cared about be killed before my eyes. I've watched as my best friend nearly bleed to death because he chose to follow me," he said, pausing to will the image of Ron out of his head. "I've seen things no one should have had to see at my age. I just can't do it anymore."
"Don't you think we would have helped you through it all? That's what a family does, Harry."
"I have no family! My parents were killed because of me! My godfather died because I was stupid! Dumbledore—"
"STOP! I've heard it all before, Harry." Ginny crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. "So how long have you and Claire—"
"You talked to her?" He was flabbergasted.
"Yes, we did. I had to tell her something after you kissed me like that." She eyed him cautiously, as if she were figuring out how exactly to approach him. "I have to admit though, Harry, that your technique has improved a helluva lot in the past few months. That was some kiss."
Harry could only snort in response.
"So how much does she know?" she asked.
"Nothing. And I plan to keep it that way, too, Ginny."
"So she has no idea who you are, what you've done or basically anything about you?" she inquired. "If I were her, I'd be pissed that you don't tell me anything about your past."
"Believe me, I am."
Both Harry and Ginny turned to see Claire standing inside the door. Harry tried to stand up, but his legs had fallen asleep as he sat on the floor and it was terribly painful to move them.
"Claire…I, er, there's just some things I can't tell you about."
"Humph. Seems you've been doing a lot of that lately, Harry," Claire flatly stated. Harry didn't like her tone at all. "So is she the Ginny you screamed for in your sleep the other night?"
Harry looked away from her and found his eyes automatically drift toward Ginny, who now wore a slight blush on her cheeks. He could think of no answer that would satisfy either of them and merely nodded.
"And Ron? What about him?" Claire shouted.
"You never even told her about Ron? What about Hermione?"
"Who are they, Harry? And why would the name Fred make you cry?"
"He's keeping secrets, Claire, about people who were important to him. I don't think your relationship is exactly what you think it is," Ginny shot back harshly.
"Don't you dare assume to think you know about what my relationship with him is like! And who do you think you are, you freckled, dowdy bitch!"
Harry felt untapped magic surge through his body, something he hadn't felt in a long time. The power built up inside and despite his best efforts to control the accidental magic, it exploded in a gust of wind that knocked Claire over onto her backside, caused Ginny to fall backwards, and upturned the furniture. Once it stopped, Harry began shaking in both fear and cold. He could do nothing but stare off into space and rock back and forth.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Claire asked in a shaky voice, looking to Ginny for an answer. "What's wrong with him?" She waved a hand in front of his eyes, but it did nothing to grab his attention.
"Claire…I—I can't explain it to you. Maybe you should go…"
"I am not leaving him like this! We need to get him to hospital!" She reached for Harry's phone and began dialing the emergency number. Before she could finish, the phone flew out of her hand and into Ginny's. "What--?"
"I'm sorry, Claire, but you really don't understand…"
Ginny waved her wand and sent the other woman into a deep, deep sleep.
