Letting Go

Prompt A4 "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

It was always something, Ginny Weasley thought bitterly. Today, it was again the fact that Dean Thomas, her boyfriend of a seven months, could not seem to grasp that she didn't like to be treated like a helpless damsel in distress. She'd snapped at him when he pushed her trying to help her through the portrait hole into Gryffindor Tower, and they'd gone straight up to his dorm room, still bickering. Ginny hoped there'd be nobody there, because they needed to have a serious chat.

As they entered, Neville looked up from reading a book on his bed. He seemed to notice the tension between them. The rest of the boys' spaces, her brother's, Seamus's — and, she thought, with a jolt, Harry's — were all empty and made up. Ginny wondered absentmindedly if the house elves had been in this morning, then dismissed the thought, realizing she had other things to worry about.

"Hey Ginny, Dean. I'll just give you some space, then?" Neville smiled at Ginny reassuringly; she was one of his best friends, and he hated to see her hurting, especially when Dean was also a good friend. He gathered up his bag and gave Dean a nod of confidence on the way out the door along with a meaningful 'You've got this, don't fuck up' look.

Dean leaned back against his bed-frame, arms crossed in front of him. He waited until Neville's footsteps had faded away down the spiral stairs before he spoke. "I don't get it, Gin." 

"What? What do you not get?" She sounded exasperated. She was tired of fighting. "I don't like when you treat me like I'm helpless, trying to take care of me all the time! I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle myself." Her voice was cool. She sat down in the chair next to his bed and crossed her arms, now, red hair swinging. Despite the cold calmness of her words, her flushed cheeks gave away her frustration.

Dean furled his bottom lip up in frustration, biting down on it as he thought of how to reply. "Ginny, I don't think you're helpless! It's just that, I dunno. I was always taught to treat women, especially one I love, like royalty. Open the door for her, bring her flowers, pay on dates... you know. Traditional stuff." 

Ginny's glare softened. Her voice was calmer, now, when she spoke. "I'm not traditional, Dean. I don't want you do to everything for me. Like I said, I can take care of myself. We're supposed to be equals, right?" 

Dean hesitated a moment too long. "Yes, but — " he groaned in frustration and tugged at his curls. He moved to sit down on his bed, across from his girlfriend. 

"It's not that I don't like when you do things for me, Dean. I just don't like when you protect me because that's 'your job', or when you do things because I'm a woman." 

Dean linked his fingers together behind his neck, propping his elbows on his knees. He was looking at the ground as he spoke, and getting more frustrated now. "I don't know Gin. I just — I guess it's because I was raised by my dad and I guess things are just different for muggles. That's what I've been taught to do. I am supposed to protect you, not because you can't protect yourself but because I want to!"

Ginny nodded, then moved from the chair to sit cross legged on the floor in front of him. She grabbed his hands and pressed her forehead against his. "I get that you think that... but if you want this to work, you need to stop." She could feel him nodding against her head. 

"Okay, Gin. I'll try, at least." 

He'd better do a whole lot more than try, she thought. Clearly they were in very different positions, right now. She was thinking of this as a casual relationship. She really did like Dean, though, and she was moving on with him. It was nice. And things with Harry — she stopped herself there. She didn't want to be thinking of Harry. She just wanted to think of Dean.

She didn't reply to him immediately, and instead stood up and placed her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist as she sat on his lap. "Okay. Now that that's settled, then." Dean smiled up at her and welcomed her lips with his. He lifted her, legs still wrapped around his waist, and laid her down on his bed, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. 

Ginny smiled into his kiss, content as he covered her body with his, and she slid an arm around to the small of his back. This almost made up for everything.

                                                                 *****************************

It was a few days later that it all fell apart. Later, Ginny realized that not only was it inevitable, but she actually wanted it to happen. She was relieved when it was over. The constant bickering and his aggressively protective nature overshadowed any good moments — including, she thought dryly, the ones in bed. It had been fun while it lasted, and Dean was sweet, but it was time for her to move on. 

The breakup came in the form of a short but very passionate argument. They had been walking back to the common room (it was becoming a very common setting for their disagreements) and Ginny tripped slightly up a stair, sending a notebook she was holding tumbling over the railing and onto the moving staircase below them. 

"Stay here," Dean told her, "I'll go get it." 

"No, it's fine," she replied. "I'll just meet you at the common room later. I'll only be a few minutes." She would have to go back down a different way though, she noticed, as the staircases had all moved again. She had no clue where the notebook had gone, or else she would have summoned it. It might take her a bit longer than a couple minutes, she conceded. But she didn't correct herself to him. 

"Ginny, it's fine! Let me go get it. Stay here." He dropped his bag there and turned to go, but before he could leave she grabbed his arm. 

"Hey! I said no, I'll get it. Seriously, Dean, it's just a book. I dropped it, I'll get it." 

"Then I'm coming with you." 

She stared at him. "Are you joking me right now? Really?" Now she let her anger tumble out. "I don't need a fucking babysitter!"

He stepped back, surprised. "I'm sorry, Gin, I just — "

"Sorry doesn't fix everything, Dean. You can't just apologize and then we continue on and do the same thing over and over again. I'm so fucking sick of you treating me like a child!" 

Dean's face darkened and he shot back quickly, furrowing his eyebrows. "It's called chivalry, Ginny, and it's what Gryffindors are supposed to do! It's my job to do that! I want to!"

"Well I DON'T want you to!!" She was shouting now, and the few people left in the stairwell around below and above them gave some curious looks. 

"I guess you just don't understand because you weren't raised like me," he growled, "but muggles have a certain way of doing this and I happen to think they're right. A pureblood would never get it!" 

Ginny stopped and stared at him. "Are you... fucking — " she didn't even finish. She pressed her lips together, face red, and hiked her schoolbag up higher on her shoulder. "I'm done with this, Dean. I'm done having this argument. It's over, okay?" 

Dean stopped too, now. "Over..." his voice trailed up and he looked back up at her, eyes flashing now with hurt as well as anger. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"YES!" Ginny shouted. "Yes, I'm breaking up with you! We're done, Dean." She turned and stormed away, her hair flying after her. "You win," he heard from her retreating form. "Have fun getting the goddamn notebook." 

Dean stood there for a long time after she was gone. Or at least, what felt like a long time to him but in reality lasted only a couple of minutes.

Finally, he left too, and the stairwell was nearly empty. The whole place echoed as a lone student's footsteps slapped the stone staircase far below. Then boy's voice called up tentatively.

"Hullo? Did somebody up there drop their Potions notebook?"