Well… this is it.

This final entry goes back to the journal style. I forgot to mention in the last post that some stuff isn't quite so canon to the books anymore because I wrote the majority of this fic before HBP. Still, I am so glad to have finally finished this. I'm back into the fanfiction world. Maybe this time I'll really stick with it.

Resentment – Thanks a million for reading all 15000-and-some words of this story! I really appreciate your compliments. Hope your foot feels better. ;)

Enjoy!

-squibbles

November 10 – 8:00pm – Hospital Wing.

Well, we won the match. The final score was 50-170, Gryffindor.

I don't remember what happened, aside from the little that Harry told me. Rumor has it I hit my head badly when I passed out. Madam Pomfrey attributed my faint to "exhaustion" and is keeping me here for a few days. I guess it was a rough match, but I'm fine now. I really mean that.

Okay, maybe that's a lie. I'm physically healthy, I know I am, I would just leave if Pomfrey let me.

I'm still hurting, though.

But someday, soon, things are going to be all right. Harry… he helped me grasp this.

He visited me this afternoon.

I'll never forget his expression when he walked in. Somehow, he seemed older. His face was creased with worry, and his hands were deep in his robe pockets, as if he was crossing his fingers, hoping I was alive. Obviously, I was, and he knew it. But I guess these days he doesn't keep his hopes too high when it comes to a human life. He's lost his parents, and Sirius—I can't help but get the feeling that, in the back of his mind, he wonders, "Who's next?"

His lips spread into a sad smile. "Ginny," he greeted softly, pulling up a chair beside my bed to sit down. "I brought you some of the best medicine available." He revealed a chocolate frog from his robe pocket and tossed it to me. I thanked him quietly, then opened it with caution, removing the card but keeping the frog inside.

"Daisy Hookum," I read aloud. "Wrote bestseller My Life as a Muggle after giving up magic for a year. Married to celebrity gardener Tilden Toots."

"I used to have a few of her, back when it was still cool to collect those. I sort of miss it," Harry mused, shaking his concerned expression for a moment. It returned, however, just as quickly. "How are you feeling?"

I placed the card and frog aside, then folded my hands in my lap and gazed down at them. "Aside from not remembering the last two days, I'm okay," I replied, peering up again. He stared back at me with those penetrating eyes, as apprehensive as ever. "Really, I'm doing fine," I tried to assure him with a smile. "Just… a lot has happened lately."

Harry nodded. "You played a great match," he offered, grinning in return. "You were right above the Gryffindor section when you caught the Snitch." He paused, his eyes amiss. "Everyone went mad, you know, cheering and all…"

Watching him closely, I found that I was holding my breath.

"But then… then I knew something was wrong," my friend went on, a look of distress on his face. "The way you—you descended so quickly. As… as if you just wanted to be done with it all." He threaded a hand through his tangled hair, breathing a sigh. I didn't know if I wanted him to keep talking. Part of me wanted to stay oblivious to what had occurred during the game. Part of me hoped more than anything for Harry to continue so he would remain by my side, and I wouldn't have to be alone.

"A-And I don't mean the match," he stammered hoarsely. "You landed on the ground and… and you just left your broom there and started running. It was like you… you thought…"

"That if I ran fast enough, I would go back in time, and change my decisions." Probably not was he was going to say, but the words spilled from my mouth before I'd given them much consideration.

Harry gazed at me thoughtfully. "Yeah," he agreed. "And I guess I came here to tell you that… I know how you feel. I—I know what it's like to just… to just want to run and never come back."

I was choking up, unable to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

"You're not on your own, Ginny. Almost every day that thought passes my mind, that… that voice that tells me to get up and leave everything behind. Just the other night I ran all the way down from the common room to the entrance hall and stood in front of the doors, just wondering… 'How long would it take for them to realize that I'm gone?'"

He took my hand as I calmly cried, allowing the tears to fall in silence.

"But then… then I turned around. I turned my back on the easy solution to my problems, because there are people who depend on me." He stopped to reach for my other hand. "People depend on you, too, Ginny. I don't think you realize what an impact you have on… on lives. People's lives. M-my life. Do… do you understand what I'm saying?" inquired Harry shakily, pleadingly.

I nodded. I understood. Not everybody who seems trustworthy is a friend, I had learned, and I had learned the hard way. It was for this reason that I continued to cry.

"Look, Ginny." Harry shifted his chair closer and squeezed my hands. "You don't need Malfoy. You're so much stronger than he thinks. I hate to say this, but you're letting him win by being so upset. I know the wounds are fresh, Gin. But sometimes you just have to force yourself to save face."

I found myself smiling weakly. "Tough love, Harry," I replied, raising my tear-filled eyes to his.

He smiled back. "Exactly, love."

Suddenly, Harry looked away as if he didn't quite believe what had come out of his mouth. "Erm, I mean… you're one of my best mates, Ginny. I—you… you are. Really."

It was cute how flustered he was. I grinned genuinely for the first time in a while. But I suppose part of me was disappointed. Who was I kidding, though. Would Harry Potter ever love me?

He left soon after that, with a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead.

There are some things in life that simply cannot be learned from books. Tell Hermione Granger that and she would laugh in your face.

Just joking. Sort of.

What I mean is, life isn't something that can just be waltzed through. Things will happen. Things will hurt. Take it from me. Some days it still hurts. At my worst, I still feel angry and used. But when I think about it, those bad days are happening less and less often. Every morning I wake up happier, having forgotten Draco just a little more during the night. Other boys are on my mind now. As to which boys, that will be for me to know. I'm done spilling my secrets onto these pages.

Harry helped me gain a new outlook when he spoke with me in the Hospital Wing. If it wasn't for him, I might still be wallowing in self-pity, giving Draco the satisfaction of thinking that he ruined a Weasley's life.

My life is far from ruined.

It's him that should be concerned. At the rate Draco's going, he's going to be one sad, sad individual when he grows up and sees that he's done more damage to himself than he could ever do to me.

I won't deny my mistakes. Everyone regrets decisions; I am no exception. But my regrets have allowed me to grow into the person I am.

I am stronger, today, than I have ever been before.

I am Ginevra Weasley, going on seventeen, and nothing is going to stop me.

Until next time,

Ginny.