WHO: Quintus Harper, Ginny Weasley WHEN: October 9th, 2001 WHERE: Ginny's. WHAT: Quintus FINALLY shares what's been eating him up. RATING: PG-13 WARNING: Language STATUS: Private/Complete
Caught up in the melodrama of his own making, it had taken a failed assignment because he was too hungover to apply himself for Quintus to really wake up. Contrary to popular belief, he hadn't been bordering alcoholism just because he'd broken up with the love of his life. No. It was more than that.
It was a concoction of guilt and indecisiveness that was clenching his stomach and poisoning his moods - and had been for a while now. He could even pinpoint the very date. And he knew his best friend and his brother weren't stupid, they could tell too - they just didn't know what it was exactly that was making him behave this way.
He stared at the piece of parchment before him. It was crude and offensive, and he'd give anything to go back in time and fix it - make it better - avoid the entire mistake in the first place.
He used to be pretty decent at fixing things. Maybe because he'd never left them alone until they were done. Which brought him to--
Without even thinking it through properly, Quintus snatched up his coat and his keys and Disapparated.
Ginny had successfully locked Marlowe in Demelza's room- which was not an easy task to say the least. Her victory meant that she was able to take Callie, her chinchilla, out of her bedroom and let her scurry around the living room a bit. She'd given her Pigmy Puff, Arnold, to her niece Victoire. The little girl had gotten so attached to both her furry creatures that Ginny couldn't say no. And she certainly couldn't have given away Callie. Not that it mattered anymore.
The fluffy little beast had just decided to perch herself on Ginny's shoulder as she flipped the page in the large book she was reading. 1,000 Places to See Before You Die. She'd found it in a box at Obscurus a few weeks before and had been flipping through it ever since.
She'd only been to about 10 of the locals, all of them within the United Kingdom (more specfically Cornwall, courtesy of Demelza.) But she'd proudly checked them off on the list in the back anyway. It was her day-off tomorrow- and since she didn't have anything better to do on said days at the moment- she figured she might visit a couple more.
Callie nuzzled her ear. Ginny reached up and stroked her, trying not to miss the man who'd given her the chinchilla too much.
She was not nearly as successful in this.
He was standing at her door. At. Her. Door. Her front door which she shared with Demelza Robins, but that wasn't of particular consequence. The point was, he was standing in front of Ginny's front door and every instinct in his body was telling him to flee - that he didn't have to do this - that it could go on and she'd never have to know anything.
But the little part of him that followed the obligations of the principles he set for himself kept his feet rooted right where they were. And it still took a good five minutes to muster up the courage to knock.
"Who the hell...?" Ginny murmured, pulling Callie off her shoulder and cradling her in her arms. She didn't know who she was expecting to be on the other side of the door as she crossed the room to pull it open- but she certainly wasn't expecting Quintus Harper.
Of course. He had to show up when she was wearing her pajamas, and her hair was a mess, and... Insufferable man.
"Yes?" she finally asked- and not in her friendliest tone.
Finally, he thought as he heard the door unlock - followed swiftly by a panic attack. It was certainly not abated by the sight of his ex-girlfriend come to answer the door. He fought for self-control. "May I come in?" he asked, his tone a little hesitant.
Ginny paused for a moment before stepping aside so that he could enter. She closed the door firmly and then set Callie on the floor. She didn't know what to say. But then, she hadn't randomly showed up at his door. She ran a hand through her long red hair and looked at him expectantly.
He stepped inside. The flat looked surprisingly tidy. He wasn't sure why that should be, because it was Ginny and Demelza, and therefore, by default, something ought to be out of place. Callie suddenly caught his particular attention. "How is she?" he queried, indicating at the chinchilla.
Ginny furrowed her brow. What was he doing here? He hadn't come by to chat about the welfare of their- her chinchilla. "She's fine. Glad I managed to shut away Marlowe, I'd imagine."
"Good to hear," he replied a little stiffly as he returned his gaze to her. He looked away again and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I, um, came by because," he hesitated awkwardly for a moment before finding the courage to continue, "I needed to tell you something."
She felt her stomach fall into her feet. Something was wrong. Really wrong. Quintus was acting awkward. Awkward. Quintus. And he had to tell her something. Several things popped into Ginny's head. Several of which involved him marrying other people. And none of which she liked.
"Okay...." she said cautiously. "Do you... want to sit?"
"That would help," he agreed and moved to the sofa and sat down. And then he suddenly felt like getting up and pacing. Bloody hell.
He didn't though. Staying seated, he looked over at her. "I'm sorry. About the break-up. But, it was necessary." Wait. That was coming out wrong. "I mean to say, I'm sorry that it centered around Harry. I know, you two aren't an item and aren't going to be, well. At least as far as I can see, but after you hear this, I wouldn't be surprised if you ran straight to him."
"I. Don't. Want. Him," was her firm answer as she sat down next to him on the sofa. She reached out for his hand- but thought better of it at the last moment and pulled it back again. He'd said the break-up was necessary. She was so confused. The whole thing was hurting her head. She bit her lip. "What's going on, Quint? Please, tell me."
It was hard to say it. There was a lump stuck in his throat and it was already difficult to convince himself to speak in the first place. "You won't want me either," he answered hollowly after stretching the silence as far as he could.
Oh this was ridiculous. She wasn't going to pretend anymore. He was here. In her home. Insisting that she wouldn't want him. Surely that meant that... he wanted her?
She slid closer to him and placed her hands on either side of his face, looking up into his face. "Yes, I will."
He wouldn't meet her eyes. That was too hard. "Ginny," he stated in a tone that was supposed to be discouraging. "Please."
She wasn't in the mood to allow him to discourage her. So she leaned up and brushed her lips over his. Ginny's stomach filled with about a million butterflies. Christ. She'd missed him.
"Tell me," she said softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together - using every ounce of self-control he had to not kiss her back. Of course, she just had to go right ahead and make everything a million times harder for him, as always. Trust.
"Ginny," he pleaded. "I love you, but I can't do this."
She frowned. What? That was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "What? Why? If you love me, be with me, you idiot."
"It's not that simple," he tried to explain with a sigh. Standing up, Quintus ran his hand through his hair - his features and body language expressing the agitation and reluctance he felt in having to admit all of this. To Ginny.
Fuck.
"Remember Anton Babinov?"
"Of course I do," Ginny sighed. She and Quint's best friend might not get along, but Ginny certainly remembered the name of the man she'd married. The man who had, from what she'd gathered, harmed both his wife and little girl.
"And how he died?" he pressed again.
"Got drunk and fell off his balcony?" she replied. What was he on about?
"Not quite," he admitted reluctantly. He experienced once more the disarming constriction in his throat that made it extremely difficult to get any words out. "I was... I was there."
She frowned. Then blinked. Then frowned some more. Was he trying to say that he...? "What are you trying to say?"
"I was there," he repeated. It would be easier if he just blurted it all out.
"So? You were there when he fell, it's not like you pushed hi-..... Oh." She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn't happening. "Did you?"
"Not quite," he said again. Salazar, this was fucking hard. He rubbed his head and took a step away from her. "He tried to hit me, I ducked and he fell."
"Oh!" She got to her feet and went over to him. She took his hand. "I'm so sorry. So sorry."
Shaking his hand free of her, Quintus looked at her properly. "I saw him struggling. I could have called for help, and I didn't. Ginny, that's not okay."
Ginny tried not to look like he'd hit her when he shook her hand away, but she was fairly sure the hurt showed on her face anyway. She took a deep breath and paused as she contemplated his words.
"It's not okay. But it's not evil either. Quint... we do crazy things when people we love get hurt. Things that aren't in character. That aren't us. It doesn't make you bad."
The image of Molly saving her life by aiming a killing curse at Bellatrix Black filled Ginny's mind. She closed he eyes and tried to will it away. If there was anyone in the world Ginny knew wasn't a killer? It was her mother. And if there was another? It was Quintus.
"I never had to go over there at all," he said after a moment. "And I'm glad he's dead. That's another thing that's not okay."
"I'm pretty glad he's dead too. And she's not even my friend."
He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but he was building up a wall around himself regardless. "I have to tell her," he stated. "I wanted to tell you first. I thought I owed you an explanation. You'll be better off without me, Ginny."
She grabbed his arm. "If you think I'm letting you walk out on me because of this, Quintus? You're mental. I love you. I am not better off without you. And you're not better off without me either! Don't be such a fucking moron!"
"I'm a moron? Did you even hear any fucking word I just said?" he demanded, staring at her. "I just told you that I'm responsible for someone fucking dying. Six feet under the ground, never coming back. It's final."
He prised her fingers off his arm and stood back again. "I need to go. I'm sorry."
"Goddamnit!" Ginny exclaimed. "Yes. I heard you. And I'm telling you it doesn't make you evil or unworthy of love! You didn't even DO anything to the bastard! My mother, Quintus? My mother used the killing curse on someone to protect me at that battle. Molly Weasley. Do you think SHE doesn't deserve love because of that?! You're being stupid! If you don't want me, that's one thing, but this? This is fucking idiocy."
"Don't leave," she added more quietly.
He gazed at her regretfully for a very long time. "At the battle," he pointed out in a resigned tone. "There's a difference." He bit his lip and swallowed, falling silent as he tore his eyes away from her frame.
What did he want? He wanted her, that was for sure. Always had, and probably always would. Yet this whole thing and the responsibility that weighted on his shoulders in regards to Babinov made him feel - not that he didn't deserve love - but that he wasn't the best person for her.
"Maybe we both just need some time to think," he said at last.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted to cry. Why on earth had she had the terrible bad luck to fall for the one man on the planet who might be as stubborn as she was?
"I've had time to think. I've had a bloody month without you to think. And I was miserable. I want you."
It was hard for her to admit. Showing any sign of weakness galled her immensely. But this was Quint. Her Quint. And right now she was far too desperate not to lose him all over again to be worried about such trivial things. They'd have plenty of time for her to pretend she didn't care again later, if she could just convince him to stay.
"In light of this?" he prompted. She looked miserable, and that only made him feel about a hundred times worse. He lowered his eyelids and looked at the ground. "I love you. So I have to go. Tell me how you feel in a week, when it's sunk in."
He couldn't believe he was saying it. He'd always fought for what he wanted, and now it felt like he was fighting to keep her away because he what he wanted was for her to not want him? What kind of masochism was that?
Pushing those thoughts aside, he turned away and headed to the door.
Ginny stared at his back as he walked away. She couldn't believe it. She'd thought having him walk away when she'd practically told him to leave had hurt- but she could never have comprehended what it would feel like to have him leave when she'd begged him not to.
She wasn't sure how she found her way back to the couch. But she was fairly certain she was never moving again.