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Broken Pieces of a Shattered Life | ||||
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Category: Pre-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Albus Dumbledore Genres: Tragedy, Drama Warnings: Dark Fiction Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 11 Summary: Whether Harry loved her or not, she would never, ever again let her love for him be his strongest weakness. He would never be hurt because of her. Hitcount: Story Total: 4484 |
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***** Horrible. Horrible did not even begin to describe the pain Ginny Weasley was in. Death. She had almost caused death. The death of best friends. The death of good people. The death of her family. The death of Harry Potter. All were what she, she and she alone had come close to causing. The last of them was what troubled her most. She had almost deprived the world of noble, kind, brave, handsome Harry Potter. It was all more than she could bear. Sure it had been Vol- Tom Riddle who had possessed her, but she had been weak. She had let her guard down, and people had come close to playing in blood. Voldemort had almost become real again, and she had almost ceased to exist. NEVER TRUST SOMETHING THAT CAN THINK FOR ITSELF IF YOU CAN’T SEE WHERE IT KEEPS ITS BRAIN. The words came running back to her with startling clarity. It was the first clear thought she had had in almost a year. Her first year was a painful blur of anguish and stupidity. She had only known part of the story, bits and pieces here and there, chicken feathers, writings on the wall, strange hissing sounds. After that, her first fully intact memory was that of waking up to find that controlling, patronizing diary bleeding ink all around her, and wonderful Harry, breathing heavily, assuring her everything would be alright. Somehow, at the time, she believed him. Now she knew, it would never be the same. She would always bear the scars of her first year. She would never have a proper childhood. With the death of that diary went the death of her innocence. Unbeknownst to Harry, when he killed that memory of the past, he had killed a bit of her, a bit of her she would never get back. She didn’t resent him for it. How could he have known, and even if he had known, was there anything he truly could have done? No. There wasn’t. There wouldn’t ever be. She wanted to cry. She wanted to release some of the agony she was going through, but she felt she didn’t deserve an outlet. She deserved to wallow in the anguish, the anguish of putting so many wonderful people in grave peril. She kept the wracking sobs deep inside, rebounding against the walls of her ribcage. On the outside she showed a strength beyond her years. On the inside she was dying. She would never fully trust again; another part of her self inflicted punishment. She wanted to withdraw from the wizarding community. She wanted to run and never look back. She was an empty, hollow shell and she didn’t deserve what everyone had risked for her. ***** She trudged her way up to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He wanted to talk to her. She was probably expelled. A couple of Slytherins hissed at her and burst into hysterics as she climbed the stairs. She bowed her head and fought back tears. The sign of weakness caused the Slytherins to laugh harder, for they had caused the pain they were aiming for. Either they didn’t realize or they just were too mean spirited and hateful to care that Ginny Weasley was just broken pieces of a shattered life. No security, no trust, no strength, no hope, barley the will to go on. She wanted to curl up into a ball and never be looked at again, but that was all she got now, unwanted attention. She didn’t know what was worse, the sympathetic stares or the hateful looks. She didn’t know exactly how, but somehow, word had gotten out that she had opened the Chamber. Most thought it was just a rumor, though some of the smarter ones began connecting the dots. A solitary tear trailed down her pale, gaunt cheek, as she stepped in front of the gargoyle to Professor Dumbledore’s office. She stood and waited for him to come down. A minute passed before the gargoyle sprung to life, and standing behind the vacated space was the Headmaster, smiling slightly. “Ginny,” he said warmly, inclining his head, and stepping aside to let her past. She climbed up the phoenix staircase, and arrived in Professor Dumbledore’s study. He walked briskly and seated himself behind his desk, motioning for Ginny to also take a seat. She sat and looked resolutely at her knees. “Ginny,” began Professor Dumbledore, trying to be friendly and less formal, “I know the guilt you bear is insurmountable, but you need to deal with it, and move on. It does not do to dwell on the past and forget to live. You are strong of mind, and strong of will.” Ginny shrank back the slightest bit at this, and Dumbledore noticed. “Though you may not feel it now, your character, your heart, your strength, your will to survive, saved you. Many wizards older and more experienced than you have been tricked by Tom Riddle and not lived to tell the tale. You lived. You kept Him from killing, which is more than most wizards would have been able to live.” “That was just circumstance,” she mumbled quietly, not breaking eye contact with her knees. “Circumstance is where strength, courage, and chance meet.” Said Dumbledore in a voice that made Ginny look up and meet his eyes, though she remained silent. Moments passed each as slowly as an eternity under his penetrating stare. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she tore her eyes away and looked at her hands sitting in her lap. Hands that over the past year had caused panic, despair, and malice. Hands that had once seemed so small and innocent, even insignificant at times, thought healthy, were now all skin and bone, pale and grungy, nails bitten down to the stubs. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Ginny, this is not your fault. Whatever you may think in the time to come, this was NOT your fault. If you remember that, you will always have room to grow, to grow anew, untainted by the events of this year. Now is the time you will need people most, do not close your heart to people, for within our heart resides renewal of trust, hopes, and dreams. Within our heart lies the power to love and be loved, and that is all you need to know.” He said this with such finality that it defiantly brought the conversation to a close. Ginny stood, unable to believe she was not expelled, unable to believe she had not lost the house cup for Gryffindor, unable to believe she had not even acquired a detention. She thanked him and left his office with a bit of a lighter heart than she had gone in with. ***** Later that night, much past curfew, Ginny sat curled like a cat in a comfy armchair, staring into what was left of the smoldering ashes of the common room fire. She was thinking of what had caused this dreadful mess that this first year at her dream school had become. Harry Potter. Well, not Harry himself, but her love for Harry. She had opened up to an invisible stranger who she had spilled herself into. Her deepest self, who she kept hidden from the world was revealed to the most evil wizard in history. Oh she was sick. How she loved Harry was betrayed to his mortal enemy. She had talked about loving him so much her heart ached, how wonderful he was. Kind, brilliant, noble, brave, perfect. How she wished he cared as much about her as she did about him. That was how it had all started. That was how it had all escalated to the death plot against Harry. And after Harry saving her, how could she not love him all the more. He had fought a basilisk, a BASILISK, and Tom Riddle, Voldemort himself for her. She loved him, and she hated herself for it. Well now she had come to a decision. Whether Harry loved her or not, she would never, ever again let her love for him be his strongest weakness. He would never be hurt because of her. She would see to it personally, that no one would ever hurt him. She lay her life on it. ***** a/n- Plz review, it is the onl y way to improve! |
| Reviews 11 |
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