Author's note: Well, let me just say that I am amazed at the response I've gotten on this story. Let me just say that if I had a dollar for every time someone used the term "bitch" to describe Ginny…well, let's just say I could take a few months off from work and live quite comfortably. She's going to get much worse, I will tell you that. I thank you all for sticking with me through the storm, it will get better I promise…just not right now. Hang with me, people!
Using one of my favorite Coldplay songs for help with the title. Not using the title of the song which is "The Scientist" but using a lyric for the title.
Chapter 22
Take Me Back to the Start
"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let's go back to the start
Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start…"
Hermione awoke the next morning, at first not really sure of where she was. This wasn't her bed and this wasn't her room. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. She hadn't really gotten much sleep. She'd tossed and turned most of the night and guessed that she'd finally cried herself to sleep. She felt like such a cliché---the girl nursing a broken heart. All she was missing was the ice cream and chocolate and the poster child for heartbreak would be complete.
Parvati and Lavender had tried to take her mind off her troubles by offering to give her a makeover, which she'd politely declined. They'd even shared their own tales of heartbreak. Hermione appreciated their friendship. She needed it now more than ever. After all, she couldn't very well go to her two best friends with this, could she? One was the one who broke her heart and the other was Ginny's brother.
As she arose out of bed, she saw Lavender and Parvati still fast asleep. While the last thing Hermione wanted to do was return to her own room, she knew that she'd have to sooner or later. With a deep breath, she resolved to do it now. She took off the pajamas that Lavender had lent her and changed quickly into the clothes she'd worn yesterday. She tiptoed over to Lavender's bedside table and picked up a quill and parchment. She scribbled a note thanking the girls for all their help and told them she'd see them later. As a postscript, she wrote for them not to worry about her. She'd never avoided her problems before, and she wasn't about to start now. She was a Gryffindor after all. They were supposed to be brave.
A few minutes later, she found herself standing in front of the portrait leading to the suite. She felt nervous and sick all at the same time.
I can do this. I can do this.
She exhaled and quietly said the password. The portrait sprung open, allowing her entrance. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the doorknob. Before she could lose her nerve, she walked into the room.
It was just as she'd left it. The books she'd been excitedly thumbing through the night before were still on the floor. She winced as she remembered how happy she'd been just a short time ago.
As she lingered by the sofa, a wave of happy memories washed over her. This was where he'd told her the words she'd been longing to hear for what seemed like years. This was the place where they'd shared their deepest, darkest secrets. She could still remember how he'd try and get her attention away from her books as she pretended not to notice his presence, which only egged him on further.
It was all over now. All she had to show for it was a broken heart and hollow memories. She felt fresh tears welling up in her eyes and was amazed, as she didn't realize her tear ducts were so strong. She honestly didn't believe she had it in her to cry anymore than she already had.
"Hermione?" a familiar voice called to her, breaking her thoughts. She turned, startled, to see Harry standing at the door to his bedroom. He looked about as bad as she did. His hair, while never perfectly in place, was completely disheveled. He, too, was wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked exhausted.
"I didn't think you'd be awake," she said coolly.
"I didn't really sleep much last night," he said quietly.
For a few moments, they stared at each other, no words spoken between them. They both looked lost and confused and were fighting that instinctual reflex that they'd always had around each other. She wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her this had all been a bad dream. It was cruel joke that someone was playing on them. He couldn't do that anymore than she could. It was all too painfully real.
"Where did you go last night?" he asked.
"I stayed with Parvati and Lavender," she said quietly. "They were really great about it, actually."
He nodded.
She looked away from him. "I better get ready for classes. I'll just go to my room."
She turned on her heels, but he crossed the room quickly and put a hand on her arm to hold her back.
"Don't go," he said weakly.
She didn't dare turn around to face him. Why was he doing this to her? She wanted to know why he was making her suffer like this.
"Harry, please," she said, still not turning around to face him. "I can't even look at you right now without wanting to curse you into oblivion. Okay? So for your own safety and the sake of my own sanity, please just let me go."
She was struggling to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted to do was to let him see her cry.
Gently, he turned her around to face him. He didn't say anything, just stared at her intently with those piercing
green eyes.
"What did you think would happen?" she asked, meeting his gaze. "Did you think that you could break my heart and I'd be ready to just revert back into my old role as your best friend?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't think that at all. Hermione, I'm so-"
"Don't," she interrupted. "Okay? Just don't. I know that you're sorry. I know you didn't mean for this to happen. Okay? I get that. What you need to get is that no matter how sorry you are or how much you wish things were different, it's not going to change anything."
She looked down at the floor, struggling with all her might to stay in control of her emotions.
"Do you want to know something that hasn't changed?" he asked, still holding on to her forearms. He didn't wait for her response. "I love you. I love you, Hermione Jane Granger. Nothing that will happen or has happened or could happen is ever going to change that."
Despite her best efforts, a single tear fell down her cheek.
"Harry, please," she said, her bottom lip quivering. "We can't do this. We need to let go. We both need to let go."
"I can't," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't let you go. I don't even know how to begin to try."
"You have to," she said resolutely. "You have to be there for Ginny now. She needs you."
At the mention of Ginny's name, Harry dropped his hands from Hermione's arms. For a brief moment, he'd forgotten about her. He'd forgotten about the proposal.
"Hermione," he began. How was he ever going to tell her about this? How was he ever going to tell her that he'd proposed to Ginny? Would she understand that he hadn't done it out of love or for any of the right reasons? Would she know that he'd done it out of obligation? How he'd felt that this was his way of making it up to the Weasleys after he'd let them down as he had. He knew that he should be the one to tell her. While the last thing he wanted to do was tell her this, he knew that he didn't want her to hear it from someone else. He would be the one to tell her.
"What?" she asked.
"I have something else to tell you," he said nervously.
She gave a hollow laugh. "Something else?"
He nodded. "But I don't even know how to tell you this."
She put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I know."
"You know?" he asked, looking up at her, surprised.
"I heard Ginny when she came back into Gryffindor Tower," Hermione said, looking away from him. "She was very happy. She was telling a group of second-year girls that you didn't give her a ring yet, but it was a romantic proposal just the same."
"Hermione," Harry said, feeling very much like the heel he knew he was. "It was hardly romantic. You know that I don't love her. I---"
"You don't owe me any explanation," she said. "I knew you'd propose. It's who you are. You're nothing if not a stand-up guy."
"Then you have to know that this isn't what I want," he said quickly. "You have to know that I wanted it to be you. I never would have imagined in a million years that it would have been anyone but you, but Mrs. Weasley, she was---"
"I have to go," she said, giving him a half-hearted smile. "We're going to be late for classes if we don't get a move on. I'll, um, I'll see you in Transfiguration, okay? And, um, give Ginny my best wishes to you both."
Hermione walked swiftly toward her bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. Only then, did she let it all come out as she collapsed against the door.
***
Draco Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, nursing a mug of hot cider and eating some toast and marmalade. He was not in a good mood.
He'd been cross all morning and had told his cronies Crabbe and Goyle to leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood for their inane conversation.
"Did you hear the news?" Pansy Parkinson said, sitting across from him.
"Go away, Parkinson," Malfoy said, not bothering to look up from his copy of The Daily Prophet.
Pansy looked taken aback, but didn't let this deter her. This bit of gossip was too good not to pass on.
"You aren't going to believe what Potter has done," Pansy said, leaning across the table.
"I don't care what Potter has done," Malfoy said coolly. "I never have. You should know that by now."
"Well, I should say who Potter has done," Pansy said giddily.
Draco rolled his eyes. "If you've come over here to tell me that Potter and his mudblood girlfriend have shagged, I think you're a little late on that one, Parkinson. They've been sharing a room for Merlin's sake! So, you're big scoop was broken a long time ago."
"Not Granger," Pansy said. "Apparently, he's been dipping his quill in someone else's ink."
"Okay," Draco said. "I'll play along. Whom?"
"Little Ginny Weasley," Pansy said excitedly. "Can you believe that? Little Ginny Weasley, of all people! Not only that, he knocked her up! Can you imagine! That's probably the only way she'd have gotten Potter to even look in her direction. You've got to hand it to her, though. She used what she had to get what she wanted. From what I heard from this Hufflepuff, whose cousin is a Gryffindor, he asked her to marry him in the headmaster's office. "
Draco felt any sense of composure he might have had slip away. He hadn't heard Parkinson right. It wasn't possible. I mean, he knew about Ginny's little girl puppy-dog crush on Potter when she was younger, but that was long ago. Hell, he'd even teased her about it right after they'd started…well, whatever it was they had.
Furiously, he looked over at the Gryffindor table. It didn't take long to find Ginny's familiar mane of red hair. She was talking animatedly to some other girls. No doubt gushing about her engagement.
This wasn't possible. He'd have known if Ginny was running around on him while they were together.
"Did you hear how far along she was?" Malfoy said, trying to seem disinterested.
"Nearly a month from what I gather," Pansy said.
Malfoy let this sink in. It had been nearly two months since Ginny had told him that she was pregnant. That baby she was carrying wasn't Harry Potter's. It couldn't have been.
As he looked over at Ginny, he felt a myriad of emotions: anger, jealousy, and most of all confusion.
Red, you've got some explaining to do.
**********
Somehow, Harry managed to get dressed and ready for classes. He was running a little late for breakfast, but he didn't care. He'd heard Hermione slip out before he had a chance to say goodbye.
With a heavy heart, he quickly gathered up his books and wand and walked solemnly through the portrait hole and down the corridor toward the Transfiguration classroom.
He saw Ron leaning against the wall, looking every bit the protective big brother.
"Going somewhere?" he asked icily. His best friend looked about as mad as Harry had ever seen him. The way he'd reacted to Harry during the Triwizard Tournament paled in comparison to how he was looking at Harry now. If looks could kill, Harry mused, I'd be dead by now.
"Class," Harry said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just wondering why you've done what you've done?" Ron asked, his arms folded across his chest.
"Ron," Harry said. "I-"
"Save it," Ron said, holding up his arm. "Save it. Because you know what, you can't explain it. I don't even want to know the details. How could you have done this---not just to Ginny, but to Hermione! I thought you loved her, Harry."
"I do love her," Harry said crossly. "I wish I had an explanation, Ron. I really do. I wish I could explain to everyone, including myself, why this had to happen, but you know what I don't know. It's not the answer everyone wants to hear, but it's all I've got. I DON'T KNOW!"
"This is so messed up," Ron said, toying with the notion of hitting or hexing Harry.
"You're telling me," Harry said.
"This is going to take some getting used to," Ron said. "And not just me, you wait until the twins hear about this. Not to mention Bill and Charlie…and my father. He's away at some conference now, but I know mum will be sending him emergency owl post to tell him this. This just---I don't even know what to say."
"Me either," Harry said morosely.
"I, um, just wanted to get some answers," Ron said, his tone softening a bit. This is just---"
"I know I don't have any right to ask you for any favors, Ron," Harry said after an awkward silence. "But this one isn't really for me, actually, it's for Hermione."
"What?" Ron said warily.
"Look after her," Harry said. "Be her friend."
Ron nodded. "You don't have to tell me that. I'll be there for her. Luna and I both will."
"Thanks," Harry said.
Again, Ron nodded and then without another word, walked away.
Harry hesitated only a moment before walking back through the portrait hole. He didn't really feel like going to class today.
*******
The first class of the day for the sixth-year Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students was Herbology. Luna and Ginny, who were seated at the same desk, were busy trying to clean up after class was dismissed.
Luna had been observing Ginny ever since she'd arrived in the Great Hall that morning for breakfast. She'd seen Ginny talking animatedly with her fellow Gryffindors and gushing excitedly as girls congratulated her on landing "The Boy Who Lived."
Ginny was definitely in her element, Luna couldn't help thinking. Yet, while she'd observed her friend, she couldn't shake the feeling that all wasn't well with Ginny. Her happiness seemed a little forced. She seemed to be acting as everyone would expect her to be acting if she'd landed Harry Potter and was carrying his child.
Luna had also caught sight of Draco Malfoy that morning in the Great Hall. She'd seen him shooting glances in Ginny's direction, obviously trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Join the club, Malfoy.
"So, how are you?" Luna asked her, deciding it was time to get some answers.
"Fine," Ginny said, clearing away some extra soil. "Why shouldn't I be?"
"I wasn't implying that you weren't," Luna said pointedly. "I was just asking a general question about your demeanor."
Ginny smiled awkwardly.
"You sure are on the defensive, though, aren't you?" Luna said, wondering if maybe she shouldn't have been so bold, but figured sod it all, she'd already asked the question.
Ginny looked taken aback.
"I'm not on the defensive," she said, with a laugh. "It's probably just hormones. I mean, Madame Pomfrey said I'd be a bundle of nerves and emotions the next few months."
Luna nodded. "So, how far along are you?"
Ginny's smile faded a bit.
"A few weeks, why?" she said.
"Oh, no reason," Luna said. "I was just wondering. You look a little bit farther along then that."
Ginny scowled at her. "My brother always says you tell it like it is, Luna. Don't hold back with how you feel. If you have something to say, just say it."
Luna looked at her innocently. "Don't get upset, Ginny. I'm just concerned about you. We've been friends along time, right?"
"Yeah, right," Ginny said, gathering up her bag and looking around, hoping to make a hasty retreat. She didn't like where this conversation was headed.
"Really," Luna said sweetly. "If you need anything at all, just ask."
"Thanks," Ginny said guardedly. "Well, I need to, um, get on out of here. I was going to check in with Madame Pomfrey before my next class."
Luna nodded. "I'll see you later, then."
She watched as Ginny walked out of the room as fast as her legs could carry her.
Ginny was definitely on the defensive and it wasn't simply nerves or emotions or hormones, Luna thought to
herself.
That's quite a guilty conscience she's got going.