Part Four
It's not that I didn't love Ginny. I did. She was beautiful, intelligent, funny. She always kept me guessing. She always had such an air of power about her. It was attractive. And yes, I did love her. Why else was I with her?
But I won't deny there was something lacking. It wasn't… easy with her. She didn't understand me, not like you. She loved me, I know. But it just wasn't the everything I had dreamed it to be.
With you, there was an understanding, there was a connection.
A connection I thought we had lost until some months later, sitting at the small dining table in the flat I shared with Ron. While he was listening to some Quidditch game in the living room, Ginny was a few feet away from me, in the kitchen, finishing dinner.
You wandered in. I felt your entrance before I looked up to see you as you hesitated in the doorway, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. After a second, you came to sit across from me. I was still unable to see your lip past the teeth. But your eyes, they seemed to scream at me.
A rush of the peculiar feeling had my heart beating frantically. Your silent revelation tore at me and enthralled me, but it didn't last long. Too soon was Ginny declaring that dinner was ready, and your eyes left mine. You stood just as Ron entered the dining room.
"Sodding Cannons on another downward spiral," he muttered morosely, and you gave him a quick kiss before going to help Ginny bring the food to the table.
My heart continued hammering. I couldn't stop looking at you, all throughout the meal, trying to convey how sorry and how thankful I was for everything you felt.
My heart continued hammering until, as dessert was served, Ron decided to reveal something else.
Indeed, I'm sure it stopped as he told us excitedly of the plan he had to move in with you. It stopped and I choked on my bite of pie. Painful as it was, I was glad for it. My shock, my pain, my peculiar feeling was disguised by a frantic coughing fit and Ron's unconcerned laughter.
Once recovered, I laughed along with him however hoarsely, standing to give him the appropriate, brotherly hug of congratulations.
For you, however, I did not reach. This was painful enough. I had to force myself to look at you. To look at you and smile, to say how happy I was for you. Did you know it was a lie?
You smiled back at me over Ginny's shoulder, thanked me. But was that a glimmering echo of my misery, or just a tear of happiness in your eye?