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Alone With My Thoughts
By Ginny_Hermione

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 4
Summary: It’s been a year. A year since I last saw him. It breaks my heart, the pain of not being with him. But I must be strong. Strong for him, and all those fighting. Fighting for peace. Peace. I ponder the concept. What will a world in peace be like? It gives me a small feeling of warmth, that maybe there will be peace. Peace from a war that has gripped the world, my world, so hard, and made it suffer so much.

DH is disregarded
Hitcount: Story Total: 3607



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Hey everyone! Here is my first fiction, a one shot, here on SIYE. It was written for a challenge, as many of my stories are, on HPFF. But other than that, there's not that much to say. Except, maybe, enjoy! Oh, and the story is in first person.




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Alone With My Thoughts


I sit on my bed. I’m determined. I will not cry. Cry the tears that threaten to fall. I fight them back. They won’t spill out, hitting the bed like the rain hitting the window.

I’m scared. Scared that he won’t come back. Fear flows through my body as hard as the thunder crashes through the night.

I heard from my parents, there was an attack. Surely he would be there fighting. I’m here. Here alone to ponder my thoughts. Will he live? Will he make it? The questions pound in my head.

I’m alone in this house, this room. I put on a brave face for all others to see. But inside I’m slowly breaking, falling apart. I won’t let it show. Where is the Gryffindor courage when I need it most? I need to stay strong, but I can’t. I’m hoping, hoping he’ll come back. Come back to me. There is a small chance he will. But it’s hanging, hanging on a fine thread. A thread that can break, snap, at any moment.

At the thought that the fine thread of hope for him will break, fear racks my body. I try not to cry yet again. Cry out in that fear. It’s hard. Will he ever be back in my arms? Will I ever be able to take in the feel of his body again? The uncertainty of it all. The uncertainty of if he’ll ever come back. It scares me.

It’s been a year. A year since I last saw him. It breaks my heart, the pain of not being with him. But I must be strong. Strong for him, and all those fighting. Fighting for peace.

Peace. I ponder the concept. What will a world in peace be like? It gives me a small feeling of warmth, that maybe there will be peace. Peace from a war that has gripped the world, my world, so hard, and made it suffer so much.

Thought after thought, emotion after emotion. They race through my mind, chasing each other. What will invade my thoughts next? All the emotions I feel, pain, hope, fear, worry, and so it goes on. Which one will come next?

I raise myself up. I stand to my feet; the feeling startles me at first. I was so consumed in my thoughts, in my mind. I take a step forward. The sound of my foot hitting the floor pounds against my ears. I walk numbly forward, and with each step hitting the floor, the emotions yell in my head louder than the rain smacking against the window. I finally reach my destination, the mirror. I gaze deeply at the reflection staring back.

My once warm, humorous, alight with fire, brown eyes are dark. They scream out to me my pain and worry, fear and tiredness. I see a tear glistening in the corner of my eye. I fight it back. I won’t let it fall. I won’t show my weakness.

I won’t. I won’t show that weakness, not when he’s out there. He’s out there fighting, and I’m in here. How can I show such weakness when I’m so safe at home? I know the answer. I’m worried, I’m scared, and it’s breaking me. It’s showing the vulnerability I have been trying to hard to hide. The worry that the thread will break, he won’t return. That worry, it weakens me.

A loud crash of thunder rips though my thoughts. I start and turn my head to look at the window. A flash of lightning illuminates the night sky. It brings light to the stretch of uninhabited land and it reminds me of the fact that he’s not here. I’m alone. I slowly sink to the floor.

It hits me again, I’m all alone. ‘What ifs’ break into my thoughts. What if the wards broke and the Death Eaters found me? Would my scream go unheard?

I quickly chase away the image that followed. Me, cornered, alone. People, Death Eaters, closing in on me. I’m scared, and I feel defenceless. My fear blinds me.

I yell at myself to stop. To stop thinking like that. I quickly push the image away, and the fear and helplessness that followed. I beg, plead, with myself not to think like that. Not to bring back the helpless sense of fear. I’m safe. I would defend myself, I wouldn’t hide. No, if that happened, I’d stand and fight proud. But it won’t, I’ll be safe.

But a question comes, was that what he was doing? Was he fighting with his head held high, proud? If he were to die, would he die a hero? Yes, of course he would. I drive away the worry that he would be in a situation like I pictured myself in. He would be fine, or so I hope.

For that’s all I can do. I can’t go. No, I must sit here, waiting, worrying, and hoping. Hoping he’ll be okay. I try once more to aimlessly convince myself he will be. But I don’t know, because I’m too young. I must stay here like a good little girl.

My head jerks up as three claps of thunder come in quick succession. I look to the sky, its calm; there is no rain, no storm raging. I’m confused. When did the rain stop? It’s no longer there, leaving behind a dark night sky, stars shine bright, almost as beacons of hope. But I wonder why would there be thunder yet no rain?

Curiosity takes over. I quickly stand, and walk to the window, eager. Eager to see the source of the sound. I have an idea, the answer to my question of the cause of the sound, but I tell myself no, it can’t be. It can’t be them. I peer into the darkness, so dark, almost reflecting the feeling of the world in this war. I see three figures, exciting and alarming me. But it just can’t be…

I run to the door of my room, yanking it open. All safety precautions forgotten as I race down the stairs. My heart pounds wildly against my chest. Beads of sweat form against my hairline from anticipation. I’m nervous, wondering if it’s really them. I don’t want to be set up to be disappointed, but I can’t help it. It’s been so long.

My footsteps echo loudly in the deserted, dark hallway. They echo like the sound of the thoughts racing in my mind.

I don’t think of danger as I fling the door open. Nothing matters but satisfying the curiosity of if it’s really him. I race into the night, the wet grass tickling my bare feet. I see a glint of sliver in the night and my heart races. I look up to see the cause of the silver glint. It’s from the frames of a pair of round glasses.

My heart is in my throat as, through the darkness, I recognize that jet black, raven, hair. Behind the glasses, I recognize those emerald eyes. The two people, breathing heavily, on either side of him, don’t matter. I only have eyes for him.

I find my voice to yell, piercing the quiet night, “Harry!”

I don’t even remember telling my feet to move, or to run into his arms, but I do. I guess they have a mind of their own. I throw my arms around him as relief fills me. He’s alive! That’s all that matters.

I feel about to burst with happiness, as I bury my head into his shoulder. Tears that I’ve held back for so long pour out of my eyes and race down my cheeks. But they’re different. They’re tears of happiness, relief and excitement, for he’s here, in my arms.

His lips move gently against my ear, and shivers run down my spine. He whispers one word. A word that conveys everything I’ve been thirsting, needing, to know.

An undying feeling of peace fills me. It’s over, the war is over. He won. He made it through, and the world will be calm once more. A new beginning will begin now. True happiness will finally come. All the pain, worry, and sadness — everything bad — it’s over.

The one word he whispers ever so quietly tells me all that. His voice catches onto the soft breeze as he whispers, his lips brushing my ear, the one word that makes everything okay.

“Ginny.”

*Finite*


A/N: Okay, there you go. I hope you liked it, and will review. Nothing else to say, really. So thanks for reading!
Reviews 4
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