Was Winter When You Came But I Refused Your Spring
 Category: Books » Harry Potter  Censor:  PG   Genre:  Angst/Romance
   Reviews:  16
 Author: kellie1vy                    Font Size: Bigger (+) - Smaller (-)

A/N: I was bored, and this idea crawled into my head and refused to leave
until I wrote this. A short standalone fic from Ginny's POV. To everyone
who’s read Hogwarts, A (Revised) History, the next chapter will be up as
soon as I finally decide on a topic! Don't worry, this hasn't distracted me
from H(R)H at all. =) Oh. And this is basically unbeta-read because I wrote
the whole thing in like ten minutes and was too lazy to send it to LilyAnne
before I posted it on FFNet, so don’t kill me if there’s any spelling or
grammatical errors. ::shrugs apologetically::



Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. But Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron,
Voldemort, Hogwarts and any other character or place mentioned in this fic
belongs to her. ::helpfully points to J.K. Rowling::





It Was Winter When You Came Home but I Refused Your Spring...



“Ginny.”



I knew who it was. Knew it without even having to turn around. Harry
Potter. The person with the messy black hair and green eyes. The person who
I’d become infatuated with at age ten. The person who I’d finally managed
to form a relationship with, romance-wise, just a little while before he
went. Just a month or so before he left me.



Yeah. Left. He left. He left the school, he left England, and most of all,
he left me. He just disappeared during his seventh year at Hogwarts,
accompanied by Ron and Hermione. God, I was worried sick. I don’t know how
many times I collapsed on my bed, screaming and crying and wanting to die
because my big brother, my friend and the goddamn object of my affections
who I finally started up a relationship with not two months before he did a
disappearing act were gone. I knew that the professors knew where they
were, because they never set up a search party, never worried as much as
the students did about their whereabouts. But I didn’t. I didn’t know where
they were. I didn’t know if they were okay.



I become a total wreck. I barely passed my sixth-year exams, and when
seventh year approached, the number of days I skipped classes added up to
about a month and a half. I was worried, so totally worried about them. But
then, not surprisingly, my worry gradually formed into anger. How dare they
leave me, without even a note or the occasional owl to at least know they
were alive? It wasn’t fair! And then lying beneath the anger lay defeated
bitterness . I became cold, hard and closed off. Not even Mum couldn’t get
me to – to feel. Fred and George’s senses of humor times ten couldn’t have
lifted a smile from me. But how could I feel? Ron, Hermione and Harry were
gone.



They were gone for so long. So long that I wondered - that everyone
wondered - if they were dead. Three years. Three years without in contact
with anyone. Well, I and a few others suspected that they probably owled
Dumbledore every so often, but I'm talking personal matters here.



Just two months ago from now, the big news was that Voldemort had been
killed. And then, I knew what they had been doing for the last three years.
And I should have been happy, should have been grateful – the three of them
had defeated the Dark Lord. I did try. God, I really tried. And a spark of
happiness finally revealed itself. But then two weeks passed, and the three
of them still weren’t back yet. The process repeated itself, only much more
quickly this time. Worry. Anger. Bitterness.



But now Ron and Harry and Hermione were back. Finally back. I had seen them
approaching the house from outside my bedroom window - I can't describe the
onslaught of emotions I felt when I saw the fiery red hair, the bushy brown
head, the tangled black rat's nest on the sidewalk. I was pulled into a
churning sea of emotions - shock, relief, glee, and even hidden underneath
it all, a glimmer of disappointment. Because I knew that Harry was going to
come up here as soon as he was inside, to try and save his sorry ass from
me ripping his stupid throat out. I would have to deal with him. And yes, I
was right, he did. He came up and he was here. Here, as in right in front
of me, in my room, right now.



“Ginny,” he repeated. “Um. Hi.”



Hi. Right. Three years worth of fear beyond description met up with a
flimsy, nervous greeting. Wow. What incredible tact and finesse he
possessed. Well, fine. Screw him. I hated him. Hated him for what he’d done
to me. Hated him for being the hero of the wizarding world, but not having
the goddamn time to send one little crappy owl to me, his girlfriend, for
me to know that he was okay. Asshole. I hated him.



“I hate you,” I said flatly. What a childish expression. But in this case,
definitely an honest expression. And I’ve never been one to mince words.



Just so everything was now up front.



His face fell. “Er…I’m sorry, Ginny. I..." He looked down at his hands
helplessly. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"



Well, no shit, Sherlock. "Yeah," I said. "It has."



He sighed. "Look, Ginny, I didn’t mean to just, well leave like that. I
would have liked to see you and talk to you and everything,
but...er...well, you know -”



“No, I don't know, Potter,” I spat out his name. “So why don't you tell me?
Oh, no, wait, let me guess. You were too busy soaking up the
“I’m-gonna-defeat-Voldemort-so-I’m-real-good-and-important” vibes that came
from taking three years to find the Dark Lord that you never, ever had the
time to write two sentences and send it off? Oh, of course not, that would
take a whole three seconds. And Harry Potter’s too important to waste
precious time like that on little people like me.”



His eyes widened. “What – is that what you – Ginny. It’s not like that. I
mean, well, it wasn't just about that, it was – well... It was just – ”
Then he gave up on trying to defend himself and started pleading. Pathetic.
I hated him. “Ginny, I am so sorry. I really am. Ginny, please, I’ll do
whatever you want, just…just, I don’t know, Ginny, but I can still be good
for you. I love you Ginny, I…”



I stared at him coldly for a few seconds.



And then I slowly shook my head and turned on my heel, walking out of the
room. Leaving him pleading helplessly in vain behind me.



And it should have been so sweet. Vindication for the anxiety-ridden girl
who had cried herself to sleep every night, wondering where the wizarding
world’s hero was, wondering if he was safe, wondering if he was – if he was
dead.



It should have been so sweet.



Instead, I felt empty. Hollow, as if someone had carved out all of my
insides.



Well, I just was tired, that was it. Tired. It can be a tough job being me.





    A/N: ::blinks:: Well. That was certainly depressing. I got the idea
from Everworld #9, Inside the Illusion. I’m sorry to all of you who love
happy fairy-tale endings, but I’m in a sort of melancholy mood right now,
and I like the way it turned out, which can't be said for some of my other
fics. I was on the verge of giving it a cute little finish and changing the
title to something stupid like It Was a Long Winter; You Came and Brought
Spring but luckily I stopped myself just in time. ::shudders at the thought
of a corny ending like that:: Anyway, ta-ta!

    Oh. And just a little note to those who are planning to click the
“back” button on your browser right now and read another fic:



   What, so you’re mature enough to read, but you aren’t mature enough to
                                 review? ;)

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