Haunted

Long lost words whisper slowly to me

Still can't find what keeps me here

When all this time I've been so hollow inside

I know you're still here

Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Fearing you, loving you

I won't let you pull me down

-- Evanescence

"By now, your potions should be a blue-green and a grey steam should be rising from it," Snape said idly, gliding around the room and peering down his overlarge nose at his sixth year N.E.W.T.'s class. Ginny's potion was more or less the colours it was supposed to be and she was satisfied. Snape paused for a moment at her cauldron, but said nothing.

But, at long last, the bell finally rang and Ginny, putting her flagon onto Snape's desk, felt a rush of relief. Part of her wished she hadn't tried at all for her Potions O.W.L., that way she wouldn't have to be here. It would have spared her the pain of two more years with Snape. She sighed, shifting her bag onto her shoulder. She gave a hurried goodbye to her friends and darted out of the dungeons. She glanced around the Entrance Hall and saw the seventh year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs entering the doors, most streaked with what looked suspiciously like fertilizer. Spotting Harry, who had a streak of brown running across his cheek, and Hermione, looking perfectly devoid of any fertilizer, Ginny frowned slightly when she did not see Ron; a hollow sort of disappointment filled the pit of her stomach at the site of Harry and Hermione without Ron, but was quick to dismiss the feeling. She watched Ernie MacMillian call to Harry and Harry lift a hand in return. Ernie turned away with Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley and the rest of the seventh year Hufflepuffs, heading in the direction of the dungeons Ginny had just emerged from. Susan caught Ginny's eye and grinned; the girls had once been paired in a D.A. meeting and were on more or less favorable terms. Ginny returned the grin just as she spotted Harry and Hermione headed for the staircases. Their hands were intertwined loosely and they were chuckling over some private joke. Ginny was genuinely happy for them; Hermione was just the sort of girl Harry needed to the moment. Harry had never been good with people, girls in particular. Ron had once said darkly that it probably had a lot to do with spending most of his childhood in a cupboard. And, according to her older brothers, as girls were confusing enough, it was no wonder why Harry had failed so fantastically with Cho in his fifth year. Hermione would tell Harry exactly what she needed from him and Harry, obviously eager not to botch up things with Hermione, would rise to what she needed magnificently.

But it was none of this that made Ginny's heart beat a little faster and glance around for Ron again. No, it was seeing Harry and Hermione together, Harry smiling at Hermione in an affectionate way .... no, it was *Hermione*. Hermione was the answer; she would be able to help her, Ginny, if she was careful, then she would be able to explain these new emotions for her brother. Maybe it was just that it had been that it had been another long, worriesome summer; they had been back at the Headquarters for the Order, though it was drastically less cheery, with the absence of Sirius.

Ginny grinned slightly to herself and followed the rest of the sixth years to Transfiguration.

**

It was later that night. Harry and Ron were at Quidditch practice and Hermione was frantically writing something on a piece of parchment. Ginny took a deep breath before approaching the older, slightly harrassed-looking girl.

"Erm ... Hermione?"

"Yes, Ginny?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in indication Ginny had most of Hermione's attention and continued to scribble.

"Well ... er ... you love Harry, don't you?"

At this, Hermione paused in her writings, looking rather startled.

"Why ... why, yes, I suppose I do love Harry. Why do you ask?"

Ginny felt a funny twist in her stomach and she tried hard not to think of the spectacular save Ron was pressumably making at that moment (he had improved a great deal since fifth year), his eyes doubtlessly burning with china blue fire, vivid red hair windswept and probably resembling Harry's a great deal.

"M-Maybe you'll be able to help me, then."

Hermione looked intrigued and set aside her parchment.

"It doesn't ... have anything to do with Harry, does it?" she asked quickly, seeming alarmed by the thought. Ginny grinned despite herself.

"No," she answered, "no, it's not Harry at all."

Hermione let out a little sigh; she leaned toward Ginny, gazing at her with rapt interest.

"You see ... I've ... I think I've gone and fallen in love myself." Ginny felt her blush deepen and she did not look directly at Hermione. When Hermione gave no indication she was going to press her opinion upon Ginny yet, the younger girl hurried on; "You ... erm ... might know him. We were ... talking and ... I think I sort of fell for him."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, an expression of smug satisfaction on her face.

"The Dursleys, of course, have seen me saying goodbye to Harry on Platform 9 3/4. But they neither know my name, nor my voice. The summer after fifth year, I called him, figuring out a story as to how I knew Harry in case his aunt or uncle answered. I needn't have bothered; Harry himself answered the phone that day. I must have called while the others were out. Anyway, I only heard his voice ask who was calling and I realized how much I'd missed him, and how old he sounded. It was quite something. I must have answered him -- I don't remember doing so -- and Harry sort of gasped 'Hermione!' in such a way that I knew. I knew that however friendly my feelings for Harry Potter had been even the day before, they had decided on a different course that afternoon.

"It is the most wonderful thing, Ginny, to discover love. It feels as though you are flying and nothing can bring you down; you've never been happier, yet you feel like crying half of the time because of that happiness."

"I dunno," broke in a new voice. "Practice went really well today. We're going to flatten Ravenclaw Sunday and *that* is something along the lines you were just talking about."

Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head, trying very hard not to smile. Ginny realized with a stab of horror Harry and Ron had probably overheard a considerable amount of Hermione's monolog and had guessed with topic. Ron was peering at her curiously; Ginny refused to meet his eye. Even so, her insides gave another little lurch and the tips of her fingers tingled. Was it love? She did love Ron, he was her brother, after all. But this ... this was different. She most certainly did not feel this way about Fred and George.

She was aware of Ron's gaze as she stood.

"Thanks, Hermione," she mumbled, turning away.

"Any time, Ginny," Hermione replied, but in a distracted way. Ginny, who had been staring determinedly at the floor, now chanced a glance at Ron and her coffee colored eyes met his. Her heart fluttered and she was aware she was breathing much faster than was considered normal. Harry and Hermione failed to notice; they appeared quite busy to Ginny. Ron seemed to have trouble swallowing.

"See you in the morning," he said in a thick, throaty voice most unlike his own. Ginny nodded, feeling very far away from herself.

Slightly fearful of the thoughts running through her head, she turned again and hurried decidedly up the stairs to her dormitory, her heart now racing, the tingle spreading rapidly to the rest of her body.