Always- a Hinny / Romione fanfic

Chapter Twenty Eight

AHHH 6.8 K reads😭😱

Ily 💕

Anyways...

*Harry's P.O.V*

My eyes sprang open, and I immediately jumped to my feet, ready to kick, bite, punch, whatever I had to, to save Ginny.

The last thing I saw before I went out was her being put into the full-body bind.

What had happened?

Was she okay?

What had Dean done to her?

I should never have let that curse hit me, I thought, cursing myself again for my mistakes. She needed me. I had let her down.

I twirled around, and saw three stange things.

Ron, Hermione and Vanessa were standing wide-eyed, mouths agape. They must've finished at the three broomsticks.

All around me were unconscious people, boys and girls alike. Eagle-sprawled, keeling or face down, all seemed to have been stunned. Had I hit that many? Or had some missed me and hit the others? Or had Ginny fought too? A million questions were racing through my mind.

But it was the third thing I saw, that made my heart stop, and my knees buckle.

It was Ginny.

And Dean.

Kissing.

A strange feeling took over me, some jumble of confusion, fury and disbelief, all bottled into one thing.

I tried to cry out, either in question of Ginny or in anger at Dean I didn't know, but all that escaped my lips was a gasp.

Hermione ran towards me, and kept asking nagging questions- was I hurt? Did I feel well? What happened? Why was I unconscious? Did I need to go to the hospital wing?- I shook my head at her, taking steps forward.

Vanessa's eyes were popping, hand over her mouth, eyes darting from me to Ginny and Dean so fast they looked blurred.

Ron was looking completely puzzled, as though he was missing half the pieces in a puzzle.

My brain numbed. I leapt at Dean, pried him off of Ginny, digging my finger nails into his shoulder and slamming him against the building behind me as hard as I could. The sound of skull on wood echoed a little.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, anger coursing through me.

"You, stay away from her-" I choked, ready to yell at Ginny later. I didn't know the whole story though. Maybe it wasn't her.

Dean just smiled sickly, a little blood coming out of his mouth. He probably bit his tounge when I attacked him.

"Oh really Potter? You know, let's have Gin choose..."

"Don't call her that!" I shouted through angry teeth, feeling childishly angry "That's MY nickname for her!"

"Gin," Dean said, grinning devilishly, slithering out of my hold. "Who do you pick?" His voice had a certain tone I couldn't pin point. Like he knew the answer right away.

I looked at Ginny, my beautiful Gin, but she seemed different, off, her eyes glazed, a dreamy, floating expression on her face. Like a loves truck Luna, times ten.

"Dean, of course!" She giggled, wrapping her arms around him, and I saw his smirk. Something was off. I wasn't dumb. Ginny would never leave me for no reason.

Dean spat in my face as Ginny snuggled into him.

"You're old news Potter, c'mon Gin, I'll walk you back..."

With one last gloating look, they were away before I could stop them.

Hermione instantly pounced on me.

"What happened? What's going on? Why did Ginny pick Dean? Are you alright?!"

I could also hear Ron in the background...

"Completely boggling mate, I dunno, you can talk this out..."

Vanessa was just taking it in, still wide eyed.

But I wasn't focusing on any of them.

What I was looking at was something dirty, empty and cracked, lying on the cobblestone path.

It was a vial.

The label was one I'd seen before, briefly, yes, but recognizable, for it was unlike any other.

It was from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

It was a love potion.

My head snapped up.

I knew it. I knew Ginny would never betray me.

I was going to kill Dean.

***

* Third Person P.O.V* (bold or italics won't work, like whatevs)

George walked into the familiar Burrow, for the usual Sunday tea with his mother and father, joined usually by Bill and Fleur, who was four months along with her pregnancy.

He pulled his hat over his ears, to hide his hair. He didn't know why he had done it, but he had to. It was making him insane with grief.

He smiled vaguely at his father, Bill, and Fleur who all greeted him, a little over enthusiastically. He could hear clinks of china, and knew his mother would be out soon.

She came bustling in, carrying a tray complete with five cups of tea, cookies, strawberries, and a stack of sugar cubes.

"Hello George dear, how's the shop?"

George shrugged and took two cookies, nibbling quickly. He hadn't tasted anything so sweet in awhile, for he'd skipped these gatherings the past few weeks, because all Mum would do was ask questions about how he was handling his, as she called it, "loss". He just couldn't take it.

"George," she said sternly, giving me a you-know-better-than-that look. "No hats at the table!"

"Oh, Mum-"

"George take it off!"

George held his breath as he gripped the side, and slowly slid it off his head.

The reaction was predictable.

Mum cried, "Good heavens!", Bill slopped tea down his front, Fleur gasped something in French, and Mr. Weasley's hand slipped and missed his cup, staining several feet of white linen table cloth a murky brown.

"George- your hair!"

"I know."

"It's'- it- it's GREEN!"

"I know Mum."

"But why?!"

George suddenly burst into tears, something he hadn't done in a long time, at least not in front of people.

"It's just-" he hiccuped, hands over his face "every time I looked in the mirror..." He trailed off, shaking his head madly. "I saw...him."

"Oh..." He felt a rain of comforting hands on his back, and a plethora of comforting voices in his ears, but he felt that the only thing that could ever make him feel better, would be a wise-cracked joke from his brother.

***

A/N: idek what the deal is with the bold and italics guys.

Like it works in the beginning.

But then later when I NEED IT.

It decided not to.

Like.

Thanks.

So

Yeah.