Without a Prayer

*Disclaimer: This story is a piece of Harry Potter fanfiction, which is owned by J.K. Rowling and her associates. This story is simply based on the wonderful wizarding world that she created.

“Hey Gin,” I beamed as I nestled myself on to the Gryffindor table’s long wooden bench hip to hip with my sweetheart.

“Hi Dean,” Ginny greeted me as she met my gaze, turning immediately from her conversation with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

I leaned in to plant a light kiss on her pale cheek, engulfing myself needlessly into her floral perfume as I did so. “How has you morning been so far?”

“Fine. Same as usual, I guess,” Ginny replied as she reached instinctively for her goblet of pumpkin juice, only to return it hastily to its location after noting that it contained no form of liquid.

“Here,” I suggested, taking her cup in a kind manner while reaching toward the center of the table for a large, refilling pitcher of the pumpkin-based concoction. “Allow me.” I poured the goblet up near the rim and then carefully handed it back to Ginny, careful not to accidentally drip the sticky drink onto her black school robes.

“Thanks, Dean,” she offered politely. She began to munch on the breakfast that littered her white plate and I decided it best to fill up as well. Piling various breakfast foods onto my eating necessity I began to hungrily consume the delicious makings, gradually losing myself as well as Ginny along the way. She turned back to her older brother and my friends within a few minutes of our silence, and even though I was slightly disappointed that she did not wish to start up a conversation with me, I let it pass by. I liked her, and allowing myself to become saddened with Ginny’s actions was all to be expected. When you have expectations, you must be prepared for the dramatic blow of positive disappointment.

After a reasonable fifteen minutes of eating, I turned toward Ginny, mentally preparing myself for out possible departure.

“Ginny?” I questioned hesitantly, hoping that she could hear me address her even as my voice appeared to be defeated and low. “Would you mind if I walked you to class today? We have twenty minutes or so until classes begin, but it takes awhile for us to walk around the castle.”

“Sure. I would love that,” she replied, slowly pushing the face of her palms down onto the smoothed oak table so that she could arise with ease. Stringing her leather bag over her right shoulder- a Christmas present from Harry- she kept my gaze and waited for me to stand up as well. I did as she wished and we hopped pleasantly out of the Great Hall.

“You have Divination next, correct?” I asked Ginny, trying to simply spark up a conversation that both of us could enjoy with decency.

“Yes, I do.”

“That is what I thought,” I replied incoherently as we trudged up the first set of stairs that would lead us up to the first floor.

“You look beautiful today, Ginny. Just as always,” I complimented, taking in her appearance more accurately now that we were on both of our feet.

Ginny’s pale cheeks immediately heated, resulting in her long fingers to readily work to hide the violent change in color that her cheeks had undergone in mere seconds. “That is nice to know.” She smiled then, her upper lip curving toward the bright sky above us, and her white teeth absorbing the light that the squared corridor possessed.

“Do you want to hang out tonight?” I pressed, hoping for nothing but a sweet confirmation. The two of us had not been alone for awhile. Ginny was either studying for her O.W.L. exams or hanging out with her chattering girlfriends and I always seemed to be left alone to find excitement with my own hobbies. This was not a bad thing of course- opening room in my schedule to do things that I excelled in and found addicting- but Ginny was my girlfriend and the fact that we did not hang out often was slightly unsettling.

“I am sorry- I have to work on a Charms essay that is due tomorrow morning. I would have gotten it done sooner, but Harry has been helping me with my defensive abilities and other things are just so much more important. Why do we have classes anyway? They just take up too much necessary time. Harry agrees with me. The only lesson that he cannot get enough of is Defense Against the Dark Arts. He absolutely loves that class and all that it offers him mentally. I wish that I could enjoy something with true value that much,” Ginny rambled.

“Oh, that is alright,” I hesitantly replied, not entirely sure whether or not she remember the question that had aroused such a dignified response. “I understand.”

“Maybe we can hang out on Saturday. It is a Hogsmeade weekend and it would be fun to do a little spring shopping for a bit.”

“But we would have to get back by half past four. We have Quidditch practice at five and Harry would kill us if we were late,” I argued. I was not angry with her request; actually, I was more than happy to see that for once she was the one that was trying to make our relationship work. But I did pressure her to see my reasoning with open eyes.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot about that. Yes, we could easily make it back here before five. On Sunday Harry is going to work with me on some more defensive techniques. I am so going to get an "Outstanding" on my Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.” Ginny’s eyes lit up naturally and a broad grin eased onto her pleasant face. “He is really a genius, is he not? I have never met anyone as smart as him.”

I let that last comment slip by, and instead tried to focus my entire comprehension on placing one foot in front of the other as our walk progressed. We were on the third floor now, passing by the library and on our way to another staircase that would put us up yet another floor higher.

“Do you know what Harry told me the other day while I was flying? He said that he has never seen any chaser as flexible as I am. Can you believe it? He thinks that out of everyone, all of the chasers at least, that I have the most flexibility. I wonder whether or not that includes professionals. I sure hope it does,” Ginny absentmindedly continued to go on with her own little chat. She obviously had not thought through things before she had spoken. Even though her fascination was evident throughout the entire conversation I tried to ignore the constant ache that something was not right with the way that she worded her thoughts. I was a chaser as well, and even though I would never wish for Harry to call me the most flexible chaser that he had ever seen, it was starting to bug me that Ginny received the compliment. That seemed to be that last thing that she needed from her own Quidditch captain.

I had given her the open chance to change the subject to more breathable topics, but she had simply carried on with her rambling about how much of a star Harry was. I had purposefully laid out the opportunity for her to once again gain my approval, but she had failed to seize it. That should have done it for me. I should have realized that she did not feel that same way about me as I so cautiously did for her. But the let downs were not enough. Not when Ginny’s flirty ponytail swung continuously with her bouncy steps and most definitely not when her vibrant blue eyes sparkled with such a blinding force. My brain was fogged and hazy and I could no longer depend on it to think straight. I was suddenly sure of nothing and I feared that the common sense that I had built up for so long would leave me all before I had the chance to even attempt to begin recovery.

“That would be amazing, would it not? Being compared to a professional?” I inquired, not able to bring myself to change the subject when such a beauty seemed to enjoy the topic so much.

“It sure would,” Ginny responded as she entwined her hand with mine.

I was not expecting this profound act of affection, but I welcomed it freely. Maybe she really does possess deep feelings for me? Perhaps everything that I had observed over the course of this school year and previous were indeed there, but not as powerful as my own effects? It was possible that I had taken things a bit too far mentally. None of my assumptions were guaranteed to be entirely truthful.

The next few passing moments of our walk were taken up in silence. Ginny and I graced our fingers gently and nothing in the world had ever felt so completely natural. At least, nothing that I could remember. We walked laughingly by the Charms classroom on the fifth floor and carelessly passed by several knights in silver armor.

We continued to file the way up to the North Tower with hearty grins on our bright faces. We still had two floors to advance to and just over ten minutes before a deafening bell would chime to announce the start of class.

I could not help but recall that listening to Ginny ramble and babble as she had done before always caused such a reconsideration of what I was so certain of to wash routinely over me. Every sentence that she ever exhaled, every word, every sound, every syllable had always screamed the name Harry Potter. She was quiet now for once, but the abnormal absence of her resonating voice helped me to comprehend everything on a clearer level. We had been dating ever since the first month of the school year now, and in those many months our conversations had been more about The Boy Who Lived than anything else.

To my utter horror, I realized that all of the thoughts that I had just recently questioned again and rejected did have absolute power and might to be confirmed. The proof was hanging there in our confined silence and denying just that would be low for me. It had taken me awhile, but I had finally figured Ginny Weasley out.

“Dean? We are here,” Ginny observed, focusing her eyes on the ceiling where a wooden square stood out in a profound manner.

“Yes, we are.”

Ginny’s hand detached itself from mine and the immediate collection of cold and emptiness filled its warm shell. A devastating effect.

“I will see you at lunch. Alright?” Ginny questioned, nearly hounding me for a response to fill her impatient gaps. Suddenly I had become the distracted one.

“Of course,” I mustered, hurt and disturbance still coursing through me due to the realization that would and had began to change my life.

She gathered the front of my black school robes in both of her muscled fists and pulled my headed down to level out with her own. Her soft lips tumbled over mine and I was suddenly uncomfortable. We had kissed before- many times before- but with the weight of humiliation on my sturdy back things were from this point on different. Ginny pulled away after a few more seconds, smiling as if we were both experiencing the happiest moments of our lives. The sensation of her cold lips lingered nonetheless.

“Bye,” Ginny forbid with ease, smirking slightly at the dumbstruck expression that I offered. She was without a doubt thinking that she was the cause.

“See you around,” I sounded, although I was uncertain as to whether a retreating Ginny could pick up my response.

I turned to walk back the way that we had come. The constant reminder of a new form of knowledge failed to disperse through my continuous attempts. That kiss that Ginny had pressured was nothing. It was a lure- a ploy- but it was meaningless to her and now to me. I knew of a secret, one that she had tried to keep hidden, and its contents were extraordinary yet heartbreaking at the same exact time.

***

Slouching my upper back and shoulders as I walked, I anxiously turned left into a new corridor, gearing my preoccupied mind to register the fact that this was my certain destination. As I stared blankly at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room- the portrait of the Fat Lady setting the rest of the brick wall apart- I threaded through my mind’s components and searched for the accurate password. Capturing it, I cleared my rough throat, preparing for my rasping voice to speak.

My run this afternoon had gone pleasingly well. Five kilometers in just under twenty minutes. My average, I suppose, but even so, I was completely satisfied. Ginny would be impressed, I suspect, and even though opportunity would most likely arise, I was not planning on using my very own physical achievements to enlighten my love interest. I believed in artistic and mental prospering; not all that I could physically maintain.

“Melon crisp,” I shivered, my breath catching in the confinements of my narrow throat. I was out of place today. Ever since this morning when the truth of what my girlfriend had been feeling for years had been spilled I was uneasy and off balance. It is amazing how different simple realizations make you feel. Destructively different if you think correctly.

The door to the portrait hole swung open and I clambered on inside. Inspecting the open room instinctively, I walked briskly over to the nearest armchair and plopped myself down onto its smoothed leather outer surface. Closing my heavy eyes, the gears in my mind churned, and the events of the day blinked through my mind.

Before my run outside, I had been sitting quietly on a cushioned chair in the dust-free library. A feathered quill in hand and a vanilla colored parchment in front of me, I was comfortable and content. The disturbing and unsettling realization that I had the unfortunate opportunity to experience had long halted its effect. I was just surprised at first. Who would not be to realize that your girlfriend had fallen for another man years ago? But the surprise was fading and now it was time for me to encase my feelings entirely in acceptance.

“Hey Dean,” a considerate and cheerful voice sounded from behind my hunched body. I turned toward the owner and allowed myself to gradually accentuate a smile. Hermione Granger stood awkwardly two feet away. Her calloused hands were full of countless volumes of many years. “Do you mind if I sit here?” She directed her head toward the table in front of me, careful not to let the treasures that littered her arms to fall to the ground as she signaled.

“Not at all. Take a seat,” I replied, dropping my quill to the aforementioned table. She moved to walk to the seat opposite of me, obviously focused on keeping the stack of books from toppling carelessly. I was prepared to offer her my help but soon registered that she could handle the load. She was the one who had retrieved each book off of the surrounding shelves after all.

“Those are sure a lot of books that you have there. Why do you need so many of them? I should say, why do you always need so many of them” I inquired and half laughed, interested in what her knack for knowledge had her diving into now.

“Oh, well, you know how for History of Magic we are studying different areas of the castle and grounds? Well, Neville and I were assigned to research the history of the Black Lake. It is quite a fascinating topic. There are so many unknown aspects of it, but even with everything that is factual I have enough resources to triple the essay and presentation requirements I am sure. I just wanted to get a little bit of a head start on the research.”

“Wow, that sounds like a fun topic. Seamus and I got stuck with the history of the Astronomy Tower. Nothing obscure there,” I responded cheerfully, my bright mood shining out with the company of a trustworthy girl.

“Actually, the Astronomy Tower was the site where two Hogwarts students spotted a new constellation. It was about one hundred and twenty years ago, but I find that quite extraordinary.”

“Oh yes, I do remember reading something about that while I was researching the other day. Charles Wickham and Lydia Bashel, right? They named it Lumina; something based off of the Latin word for light,” I observed.

“Ahuh,” Hermione replied, propping open the rough book that topped off her enormous pile. She rummaged through her bag for a parchment and a pointed quill contently so that she could begin her note taking. “Can I use some of you ink?” She questioned, noting that an open bottle rested right in front of me. “I think that I left mine up on my dresser.”

“Sure,” I answered, dipping my own quill into the black mass of liquid and then pushing the stout container to the center of the table where it would easily be of access to the both of us.

“Thanks.” Hermione then sat up, reaching her bony arm across the table. Her eyes fell on the single stretch of parchment that sat in front of me and smiled, soaking her feathered quill into the bottle and then returning to a straight position. “That is a beautiful drawing there. What is it exactly?”

“It is my grandparent’s house. I hope to live there someday. It is in the middle of nowhere with a meadow on one side and a mysterious forest on the other. It is absolutely amazing there,” I beamed as I visualized myself on the squeaky wooden swing that rested naturally on their peeling deck. It would be the perfect home with a little fixing up and all.

“It sure looks that way. By the way, how have things been with you and Ginny? I saw the two of you leave breakfast today together. You both looked really happy.”

“Things are okay,” I reminisced cautiously. “I just think that it might be time to end things...possibly...I don't know? We have been dating since the middle of September and it is almost June already. I just feel like we've hit a plateau and nothing I do seems to help us get over that."

“Do you think there's something holding her back?” Hermione inquired with a glimmer of security and knowledge in her dark irises.

"I think so. I think she likes someone else and is just being dishonest with me about it. Maybe even dishonest with herself, I guess, but I can't be sure."

“Who is it, Dean?” Hermione whispered with an absence of politeness. I trusted her. She undoubtedly trusted me. No one had to know the specifics of what this conversation had entailed. But I also got the impression from the look in her eyes that she knew exactly who I was talking about.

The thought of finally releasing myself from the pain that knowing the heart of another had inflicted was horrifyingly inviting. I wanted to tell someone- anyone- my racing thoughts and who better to do so than a trusting, nonjudgmental, considerate Hermione Granger. I gave into my mind and let the heartbreaking words tumble with ease from my lips, instantly relieving me from my inputted misery.

“Harry.”

My mind returned back to the present time and I let out a wild sigh. My half-asleep body had not moved an inch between my arrival and the end of my flashback. That had been a little over five minutes ago.

I looked around the common room for any changes, but noticed little. There were less people in the room, but the difference between those who had departed and those who had entered were minor.

It was nearing seven and I decided that it would be best to leave now and get some dinner in before a little homework and some more thinking. I sat up from my armchair and rose awkwardly to my feet. Walking the short distance to the exit, I made my leave.

Pacing myself down the countless corridors and several staircases, I progressed in my journey to the Great Hall. The castle emitted the same overall feel and appearance as it always did, and so despite the needed distraction from my own thoughts, none was offered my way.

I smiled and nodded my head politely as I passed by fellow Gryffindors or civil students from opposing houses, and that did seem to help to focus a little less on disturbing thoughts. I was no longer upset, nor was I even mildly jealous. Anxiety was just taking all control. Nothing could push me from the nervousness that chilled me. Not when what I was about to do was constantly on my mind.

I finally stepped down from the grand staircase that slithered to the marble floor of the Entrance Hall. I made my way over to the propped open double doors that would engulf me into the magical dinning room, and took a seat at the location of my usual spot on the squared bench.

“Hey Dean,” Harry greeted from his nearby rest on the opposite bench. He offered me a polite smile, not showing his teeth in the act, and gradually turned back to his bowl of hot soup.

“C’mon Dean, dig in,” Ron demanded through a mouthful of food, when he observed that I was just sitting there, frozen in my spot. “The food is delicious, as always! Dinner is my favorite meal of the day!"

“I am sure that it is,” I mumbled, letting out a frustrated sigh. He and his sister were complete opposites, yet they both possessed the aggravating ability to drive someone to the bridge of proclaimed defeat.

“Hey guys,” a bright Ginny and a courteous Hermione enlightened as they slid masterly into their seats. Ginny next to me and Hermione squashed comically between Harry and Ron.

We all began to pile our sanitary plates with scrumptious dinner and the awkward silence that overcame the five of us was nothing that seemed disturbing. I focused plainly on eating; spearing my pointed fork into various meats and vegetables and not chewing with my mouth full. It was a habit of Ginny’s that bugged me to no end and so committing the action myself would be a blow of humiliation straight to my face.

After what seemed like seconds, but in reality what must have been minutes, Ginny turned her fiery head my way and whispered in my ear,

“Let us go for a walk. I feel like talking.”

The last structure of her sentence had a promising aspect mangled in its mask. She wanted to talk. If she was not going to break things off between the two of us, it would be the closest to perfect time for me to do just that.

“Alright,” I agreed in a simplistic and emotionless tone. I rose from the sturdy bench in one swift movement. “You're done with dinner?”

“Yeah,” Ginny assured as she too stood from the bench in a manageable and routine-like manner.

We exited the Great Hall through the signature rectangle doors of cherry-based wood and turned right to head for the dungeons. A quiet stroll, I presumed. Something that I could definitely live with.

“So how was your day?” Ginny hesitantly began. She pressed her hydrated hands together tightly and then fiddled incoherently with loose strands of her robes and hair.

“Fine. All of my classes went well. I went for a run today, too- about and hour or so ago.”

I internally smacked myself across one cheek as the words flew from my lips. I had vowed that I would not bring that up. She was always impressed with physical ability, although, I doubted that even that would not be able to save me from tonight’s destructive events.

“Oh really? I thought that you go for daily runs?” Ginny commented.

“I do,” I replied vaguely. I could emphasize my points a little bit more but what was the point? Things were not going to change just because I spilled a half a cauldron’s worth of pointless adlibbing.

“Oh,” Ginny breathed, sounding slightly puzzled with my response. But she recovered quickly all the same. “Dean? I have been thinking a lot lately and as much as I do not wish to say this, I think that it would be beneficial to the both of us if I just let it out. I think that we should break up, and I do not just mean taking a break. Permanently.”

“Okay.” My voice held no form of resentment or detectable emotion.

“What?” She pressed.

“No, I think that it would be best. Besides, with me out of the picture you can go after Harry.”

Ginny’s eyes began to water violently in the corners and her chest immediately rattled in unison with her wretched sobs. “You?...You? know?” She bolted down the corridor in the opposite direction within seconds.

I was left alone.

Sighing wildly, I turned in the same direction- with no intention of following her, but also no wish of roaming aimlessly in Slytherin territory. Shuffling my feet tuned out a majority of my racing thoughts but the few that hurt remained intact in my mind. Despite which one of us was the victim and which one the perpetrator both of our hearts were shattered- one in agony and one in guilt- and only time could heal what damage was inflicted as two once lovers grew in different directions.