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Category: Post-HBP Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 1 Summary: Being around him is like living with a coma. There isn’t anything she can say, anything she can do to make it all less…well, awkward... Ginny isn't coping because she needs him. She needs him... One- shot, short and sweet. One swear word *slaps wrist* but it was appropriate :-D Hitcount: Story Total: 4458 Author's Notes: This is a one shot I felt the need to write one day. It'sa little Angsty and for that I apologise. But hey- thats what loves' about whn you're Ginny Weasley and you've lost your Harry. Enjoy! Please review if you'd like to ctritize constructively or comment. Thanks :-) |
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Coma Being around him is like living with a coma. There isn’t anything she can say, anything she can do to make it all less…well, awkward. Her hands and her mouth want to speak and want to touch but her mind won’t let her. Her mind keeps her body secure and bounded by reason. She doesn’t always give in. she sometimes chooses not to listen this time, chooses to do as she damn well wants. But she knows that voice, that little voice of reason reminding her she hasn’t a right anymore, that he isn’t hers anymore and that she just can’t anymore, has to be listened to. Because otherwise she’ll mess it up and she can’t do that because it’s taken her so long, so long to perfect her act of being perfectly comfortable, understandable and not-really-bothered by his presence at all. And no matter how hard she sometimes fights against that reasonable voice telling her to carry on acting like everything is ok, she’s much to stubborn for that. …And her mother used to say stubbornness was a bad thing. She used to agree. But it’s her lifeline now. It is all she has, now. He had returned with them and left again, only he had left them behind too. A face which they had not expected to come knocking on their door had turned up, demanding him to leave them and go alone together with the boy they had all in turn despised. He had agreed. He had gone away. Sometimes it felt good to be a drama queen. It felt good to think in a sorrowful way that she might as well be grateful for the dark being willing to give her the time of day, to keep her company, because no-one else will. No-one else is as constant as the company of the dark. Sometimes she scolds herself for her ridiculous self pity because at least the boy- man- she loves is still alive, and that’s one thing some people haven’t had since the start of this war. But then she thinks how long that’ll last…and she gets scared and she gets restless and she needs him then, but, of course he isn’t there. So she goes downstairs and cooks some dinner with her mother, who talks and talks about her day and niceties and doesn’t ask for her to listen, doesn’t ask for her to reply. And she is grateful because she doesn’t think she can. Useless distractions. They never work. * One day, whilst sitting on a log, he hears his blond companion say that it’s alright for him because he knows how to love. His blond companion says it would be impossible for himself to love because he doesn’t know what it feels like. He looks over to the potion master and finds him watching the fire. He doesn’t like to watch the fire himself. It’s too red. He looks back to Draco and feels he has a point. For a fleeting moment but a moment all the same, he also feels jealous. * It’s not like she wishes she didn’t feel it. She is grateful he has ever looked at her, really, and she knows she would be hurting either way. He would still be gone, and she would still love him, regardless of whether his feelings had changed that year or not, because well… that is what she does. She loves him year in year out and it just so happens that he noticed her in return. Maybe things would be a little easier if he hadn’t; there would be less to miss, less to remember, less to imagine… there wouldn’t be that frustrating feeling of a lost chance, having a chance at all the things she used to wish would happen. It’s crueller in the way she has had it once and tasted that type of life before having it taken away again, and it is a bloody typical cliché too. Yes it would’ve been easier if he hadn’t noticed her. But she is grateful all the same. * Hermione watches her friend holding up her red head proudly every time she descends the stairs and, she watches as her friend’s head drops the minute she feels unnoticed. She holds his hand and tells him to speak with his sister but she knows, even though the worry and the dull anger is always in his eyes when he sees his sister that he will never be able to express how he wants to help. He never has had a way with words, she smiles. There isn’t much she can do then, but to speak to Ginny herself. Even though she knows that Harry would never have allowed Ginny to follow him like she had wanted, Hermione had at least expected to be there with Harry and Ron right until the end. Only what they had expected hadn’t turned out to be what had happened. Just like with Ginny, Hermione had watched Harry, too, seeing the same moping and constant aching. When travelling he had not said much to either of them and when destroying Horcruxes and finding leads with answers he had only smiled with his mouth. Whatever they did, whatever progress they made, it was always there: that look in his eyes which told her he knew what he was feeling. Sometimes it was sharp and clear, other times it was blunt and dull…but it was always there. It stayed there until they returned to the Burrow until it turned into another look which was in a way worse. Harry doesn’t miss her anymore. He is rejecting her. Because he has to. Because he is stupid. Because he loves her. And Hermione watches as the flickers of hope dim to a flat look of grief which seems to cloud Ginny’s eyes. It still does. Harry has gone again, but the look is still there. * He knows his girlfriend has already spoken with her but it is his duty, as her brother, to show he cares. He doesn’t know how he’s going to, but at least he’s going to try. What if she cries? What if she tells him things he doesn’t really want to know? What if he makes it worse? But when she does cry and she does speak, and she leans on his shoulder because she’s so much smaller then he is and wets his T-shirt with her tears, he finds he doesn’t worry about how he should act anymore because his arms automatically hold her close to him, and he rests his chin on top of her identical hair and simply lets her cry. He isn’t even proud of himself until Hermione smiles and Ginny whispers a thank you. He supposes her act has ended. It appears that not being good with words doesn’t really matter. * Not being around him is like living in a coma. She finds she can cry and that they’ll understand. She finds she doesn’t blame Snape and Malfoy for stealing him away again because it hurt even more when he was there. She finds that she truly believes he will survive and that the next time his eyes meet hers they won’t reflect her own. She finds she isn’t alone and that there are people who love her, but she knew that all along. She finds she has that empty feeling but she will be able to live it a little while longer because even though she cries, and even though she hurts and even though she needs her brother to put his arms around her and listen, she is still a strong person. She finds without him she is still herself, only she feels whole when he’s there. She finds that she believes war will change him, but she’ll do everything in her power to bring him back and not just because she cant live without Harry, but because she loves him enough to do it for him too. She finds that when her mother talks about her day and niceties that she can listen and that she can reply with words and a smile. She finds that waiting is hard but can be done, and that him leaving her behind is only because he loves her too. She finds she is ok. That just for a while, just a little while longer, she is ok. Ginny smiles. * …finds he is ok. That just for a while, just a little while longer, he is ok. Harry smiles. |
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