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How a Heart Behaves by elegantphoenix
Chapter 1 : One
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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Disclaimer I own nothing you recognize.

AN
Oh dear, I've started yet another story. Well, it had been sitting on my computer for ages and I thought that I would give it a go and let it loose on the world. So even if it's utter crap, I would really appreciate anyone and everyone giving it a read and letting me know what they think of it.

Thanks a million :)






I stood on the platform with just my mum for the first time, since dad was still trying to work up to a promotion and Ron had gone off on some mysterious excursion with my ex-boyfriend and my best friend. Mum stood next to me, wringing her hands with worry the way she’d done the minute her little boy was gone. There was still some tension there between us, palpable in the air as it was, from our fight just before the three of them had left.

The farthest thing from my mind at that moment was going back to school. Instead I wanted to help them like I had back in the Department of Mysteries two years ago, but mum, dad and especially Ron wouldn’t have it. I’d thrown my first tantrum that night - I’d always been rather good at keeping my emotions in check - and it had gotten particularly bad.

In fact, I was still fuming a bit now and it had happened at least a month ago.

So now they were gone and allowed to skip their final term of school, and I was about twelve steps away from the scarlet train itself. When the whistle blew for last call, we finally realized that we were one of the only families still aimlessly standing around on the platform. I did not want to say goodbye to mum - or anything to her, really - so I took a step toward the train.

“Ginny?” Her voice hitched right in the middle of my name, and my heart gave a miniscule tug of compassion.

I exhaled in mock impatience, glancing up at the train before turning back to my mum. “The train’s about to leave, so I don’t really have time for-” She cut me off by enveloping me in the tightest hug I’d ever experienced, my face literally pressed into her bosom.

“Oh Ginny,” Mum pulled away with me at an arm’s length away as I tried to catch my breath again, fresh oxygen almost like a drug to me now. She brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear thoughtfully, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “Please don’t be mad at us.” I glanced at the train behind me.

I started backing away, her arms falling limp to her sides. “I-I should really get going.” As the words left my mouth the train itself lurched forward and that’s when my mum was brought to what was actually going on around her.

“Be safe!” She called as I hurried to catch the handle on the side of the train and swing myself up onto the stairs before it picked up any speed.

When I looked back, she was waving.

I’d managed to pick my hand up too, preparing to wave back, but then we turned a corner and she was gone. I stood like that for a moment or two before realizing that my hand was still up and blinking, adjusting my grasp on my school trunk as I turned around. A tiny group of boys immediately disbanded when I did, and I blushed, having just made a fool of myself.

The search for a compartment on the train was beginning to look hopeless, and I was starting to regret standing out on the platform for any longer than I had to. Which shouldn’t have been at all. So due to my procrastination there were no empty compartments left and I had no idea where Luna was.

This term was getting off to a marvelous start, I’d say.

I reached the backmost part of the train to find a - miraculously - empty compartment. I put my school trunk into the first empty luggage rack I saw and then collapsed onto the seat next to the window. The curtains had been drawn, which was odd seeing that they were often open whenever we boarded the train. I decided not to bother with it and took a slow deep breath as I settled in for the ride, my eyes fluttering closed as I improvised meditation.

The door to the compartment opened a few minutes later, and I looked up to see a boy with dark hair cropped close to his head and striking cerulean blue eyes, wearing his school uniform minus the house specific tie, so there was no way of me determining if he was friend or foe by looks alone.

“Who are you?” He demanded and my brows pulled together in confusion. I opened my mouth to speak but he just shook his head. “Nevermind. What are you doing in my compartment?”

I closed my mouth for a moment, taken aback by his tone. “What exactly do you mean your compartment? I was clearly here first, so you can just-” Before I could finish, he cut across me again, this time gesturing to the luggage rack across from the one I’d put my things in. At the sight of a broomstick and another school trunk, I couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment.

“Look, don’t you have any friends you can share with or something?” He asked, raising a brow questioningly.

I tried to look away from him sheepishly, but my eyes fell upon the scarlet curtains that had been drawn infront of the window. Not exactly the most exciting thing to look at. So I exhaled slowly and looked back up at the boy.

“If I had any other friends to sit with, don’t you think I would’ve gone to them first?” I pointed out. I met his eyes for the first time since we began talking. “Besides, I could ask the same of you. Why else would you have a compartment to yourself at the very back of the train?” At the look on his face as he clearly tried to come up with a clever enough comeback, I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Alright, point taken. Just,” The boy entered the compartment and closed the door behind him, taking the seat across from me. “Don’t make me regret letting you sit with me.”

My smirk shifted to a poorly suppressed smile in triumph.

I pulled out a tattered and worn muggle novel I’d started over the summer but had to put off because of all the drama surrounding the Burrow, cracking it open on my lap and brushing my hair behind my ear. I glanced up at the boy through my eyelashes - surely I couldn’t continue referring to him as ‘the boy’ forever - before saying,

“I’m Ginny, by the way.” It was one of those things you said in passing, just hoping that the other person would get the hint and tell you their name in response. But after a long moment of silence, my theory was proving to be, dare I say, wrong.

He opened one eye discreetly as I went back to my book, disappointed. I could feel his eye on me, but I didn’t look up again. Then, after another moment, the feeling of him watching was gone. The silence was deafening now, bothering and distracting me from concentrating on the book on my lap. I wanted to look up again, just to peek at him to see if he was looking at me again, but then he would know that I was thinking about him. Merlin, why was I thinking about him at all? I only just met him and I didn’t know his name.

“Theodore.” My breath caught when he spoke, and I looked up at him. His eyes were closed and he was leaning his head back on his hands in his seat. “Theodore Nott.”

I smiled to myself as I returned to my book. Something Hermione told me a while ago crossed my mind the moment I looked away from him, and though I had been trying hard to keep old thoughts from resurfacing, something about this one made me let it through.

“You need to move on, Gin. Maybe try going out with other guys and relax around Harry for a bit. You know, test the waters before jumping right in. He‘ll like you better if you wait a while, when you start to act a little more like yourself around him.” Hermione had told me, and I had done what she told me to from that day onward. Now look where her wisdom had led me.

Right into spiraling regret and disappointment.

So I was going to take another shot at moving on, starting now. I was going to do it because I was quite sure that if Harry didn’t want me now, that if he didn’t think I was strong enough to handle myself, maybe I didn’t want him either. Maybe I was getting over him already and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know this Theodore very well yet, but I had a strong feeling I wanted to get to know him sooner rather than later.

I turned the next page in my worn novel, crossing my legs at the knee casually. “Nice to meet you, Mr Nott.”




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