reparo ( ✓ )

chapter five

It was the first time Harry had been up in the air since seventh year, and he couldn't help but admit that he loved every second of it. Wind ripped past his face, leaving a pleasant pink tint to his cheeks. His dark hair was disheveled, and his eyes were opened wide. He felt alive, for the first time in months.

He'd decided to go out for some Quidditch practice, seeing as he was the captain and Seeker of the team for just this one more year. Pretty soon, Harry would actually need to head out to find a new Seeker, seeing as this was his last year. There needed to be new and steady players on the Gryffindor team after the seventh and eighth years left.

Harry flew around for hours that Saturday, for once carefree, and he wondered if maybe he should ride around more often - if only to get a break from his own head for a while. He was doing better, if only a little. If he'd tried to get on a broomstick towards the beginning of the term, he'd have surely plummeted right off and into the stadium below, impacting the earth with a deadly force.

"Harry, it's time for you to come in!" He heard his name being called, and when he looked down, he found the familiar fiery red hair of a Weasley. Ginny Weasley.

He landed smoothly, dismounted his broomstick, and let out a low sigh as he walked towards the redhead.

"Thanks, Ginny." He spoke, giving her a half-smile before hurrying off towards the school. Ginny followed after him, however, and soon, the ginger had caught up with the mousy-haired boy. His legs had gone stiff from the hours of flight. Perhaps next time, he'd pace himself a bit better.

"Harry," she started, but he only clenched his jaw.

"Ginny, can we please not do this?" He begged, setting his broomstick off to the side once they'd reached the Common Room. Immediately, the room had grown silent and all of the Gryffindors eyes were on the pair.

"Well, Harry, it looks like you've drawn a crowd." She huffed, plopping herself into an overstuffed chair as she faced him. He stood awkwardly, ignoring the warm feeling on his neck and ears, spite the chilled temperature of his skin from hours outside.

"I always draw a crowd." He admitted, and then glared at his housemates. "Can you all mind your own business? This doesn't really involve you."

"It's our Common Room too!" A third year stated, and Harry couldn't argue with that. He turned to the redhead and narrowed his eyes.

"Fine. You wanna talk? Meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes." And with that, he hurried out of the portrait hole and towards the courtyard. Ginny remained in her seat momentarily, staring after the dark haired boy in wonder.

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They sat together in the garden, taking in the sight of plants withering as the autumn season set in. Harry kicked at a stone along the pathway, and Ginny glared at her legs nervously.

"So," the two of them said in unison, causing a light blush to creep on their faces.

"You first." Harry insisted, and Ginny nodded, tucking a red strand back behind her ear.

"It's really just a question," she admitted, brown eyes meeting Harry's green. "What's going on with you?"

Harry knew this was coming, and yet he hadn't really contemplated the right answer to give her. He frowned, pursed his lip, and thought for a moment. They remained seated as a flood of students made their way from their Houses towards the Great Hall for supper. It appeared dinner would have to wait, in Harry and Ginny's case.

"I don't know, Ginny. It just seems- Ever since the war, I've just felt off. I don't feel like I'm really here anymore, and I know a lot of it is the fact that a large part of me was destroyed upon Voldemort's death, but I just feel severely empty. I- I'm experiencing all of these horrible things in my head, and I'm just not sleeping at night, and-" Harry felt as though he was going to cry. When the tears did begin to slip down his face, Ginny held him, and he couldn't help but acknowledge the feeling that he wished it had been somebody else that wrapped their arms around him, and it was Malfoy that Harry was envisioning, of all people.

"Harry, this... You could've told me all of this, and I would've understood it, love. I would've given you time, and I wouldn't have had these thoughts that you left me because you didn't love me." Ginny explained, pecking the dark haired boy's cheek. "You do still love me, don't you?"

Harry remained silent, wiping at his tears with the sleeve of his jumper. He felt like rubbish, and extremely bad for Ginny upon seeing her distraught face.

"Don't you?"

He cleared his throat, and locked his eyes on hers.

"I do love you, Ginny, but... I just don't think I love you in the same way that you love me. I don't know, it's so complicated right now." He admitted, and Ginny leaned away from Harry then, a frown covering her face, as a small 'oh,' escaped her lips.

"Is there somebody else?" She asked, voice close to breaking, and Harry just wanted this to be over. He hated hurting Ginny: absolutely despised it, but here he was, doing just that.

"No." Harry answered truthfully. There wasn't anyone else that he loved in the way that Ginny had spoken. He loved multiple people, but none in the way of romance. He had a deep longing in his chest, however, but chose to ignore it upon his answer.

Ginny's face lit up a bit at that, and she scratched at her head awkwardly.

"Perhaps, in time, you and I can get back to where we once were. I do love you, Harry." She stated hopefully, pecking his cheek. "And I'm so glad we were able to have this talk."

After Ginny had left for supper, Harry remained. He wasn't in the mood to eat anymore, and the place in which Ginny's lips had touched his skin left an unpleasant burning sensation against his body, leaving confused shivers up his spine. He felt wrong, and so he headed for his dorm.