Sometimes, She Wishes...
Summary: Sometimes, Ginevra Weasley really wishes that she could feel happy for both of them. Yet, she only feels jealousy. They were safe in their graves together and she, she was in hers all alone. HP/GW
Love.
Ginevra Weasley knows that a younger Ginny had been infatuated by the idea of love. Sometimes Ginevra wishes that it hadn't been so. But at that time, Ginny had been young, carefree ... innocent.
Innocence? Ginevra Weasley laughs at the thought of Ginny being innocent. It was a virtue that she had been robbed of by Tom years ago.
But at that time she, Ginny had been naive. Love had seemed like an answer to the emptiness she had felt. And why not so? All the bedtime stories that had been her companion painted it as a wonderful sentiment. In accordance, it was like an amazing painting of optimistic emotions – something that had appealed to her six-year-old mind.
Sometimes Ginevra Weasley wishes that someone had told Ginny the truth about fairy tales, about love.
All those years ago if someone would have asked Ginny the meaning of love, she would have replied that it was the best sensation in the world. She would have said that it was like a fire that refused to tame or burn out.
Sometimes Ginevra Weasley wishes that Ginny had known the reality of life. It would have prevented her from making the biggest mistake of her life. But, she knows that it is too late for that.
However, Ginevra Weasley knows better, or, at least she thinks that she knows the best. She knows that love isn't all about rainbows and the sunshine. She acknowledges the fact that every fairy tale fades into darkness as time passes. She accepts that love isn't a flame of passion but instead a plethora of pain, of longing, of hatred.
And what makes this bit of knowledge infuriating? It is the fact that Ginny also knows this. Well at least, know she does.
She knows that Ginny knows. But the damned problem is that Ginny refuses to agree with it. She refuses to shut it down like Ginevra had done.
She was ... is addicted to love. And that, Ginevra Weasley feels, is Ginny's problem.
Love is like poison, a very dangerous poison. And it is killing Ginny, taking along with her Ginevra. It is eating both of them, one begrudgingly and the other by her choice.
Sometimes Ginevra Weasley wishes that Ginny had been a bit more sensible. But alas, that had ceased to happen.
Harry Potter lies in front of her. He does not move, not even when he is taunted.
How could he do? He was dead.
Ginevra Weasley knows that she ought to feel sad, but Ginny prevents her from feeling anything except anger.
Ginny wants to laugh bitterly at the reality of life. She would have done so if she hadn't been sure that she would instead break down. Ginny wants to walk up to Harry Potter and yell at him, berate him, hex his head off, kill him for taking her Harry away. But she knows that she can't.
Sometimes Ginevra is confused. She is confused as to how Ginny can love Harry but hate Harry Potter at the same time? After all, they were the same person, weren't they?
Ginny always corrects her. She tells Ginevra that they both are different entities. She loved Harry, her brother's best friend, the small little boy who they had met on platform 9¾. She loved him with all her heart. But she hated Harry Potter. He was the reason for all the pain inflicted upon her; the reason of that unrelenting tugging at her chest; the anguish of losing someone. She hated Harry Potter and all he stood for.
And that is why she isn't calling for Harry right now. Ginny knows that even if the person in front of her is alive, he will be Harry Potter, not her Harry. For Harry had already died before that forest confrontation. He had been dying bits by bits the day she had first met him and now, he had been finally claimed by the long drawn disease of negligence, of hatred and of pain.
Sometimes, Ginevra really thinks that Ginny does not hate Harry Potter for killing Harry, but she instead hates him for making her fall in love with Harry.
For some reason, everyone starts panicking. In that chaos, Ginevra notices everyone rushing towards the great hall. She follows, because, Ginny might hate Harry Potter but she would never hate Harry.
A curse flies towards her. Ginevra drops down on her knees and rolls over. Her hair whirls around and the wind blows elegantly across her face, making her feel as if she is falling down.
Ginevra really wants to laugh at the irony of this. Ginny had fallen down ages ago. She had fallen down and kept falling every day. Loving Harry was like falling down. First comes the initial thrill, the ecstasy, the adrenaline rush and then, then comes the pain; then the dreams are shattered.
Sometimes, Ginevra really wishes that Ginny didn't have to go through this pain every day, every moment of her living life. But, her wishes never bring Ginny relief.
The war has been won. The price had been paid. Everything is over and hopefully back to normal. Smiles are being passed around between the people gathered in Hogwarts. Everyone is grateful for surviving, for living through, and for winning.
But Ginevra knows better. She knows that the war had been lost. In fact, she knows that the war had been lost horribly.
Ginny, the ever optimistic naive counterpart ought to have corrected her. But that could now only happen in Ginevra's imagination, for Ginny had been one of those countless souls that had been lost in the dreary war.
And that is why Ginevra considered the war to be lost. Ginevra had lost a part of her, and she was sure many had done the same.
"Five hundred and eighty-seven human lives were lost in this long drawn war. Five eighty-seven human lives. Not Pure-blooded, not half-blooded, not muggleborns, not squibs, not muggles; but instead, five eighty-seven human lives. Why? Because we all are the same; that is, barring a few differences-" Shacklebolt says.
But Ginevra Weasley knows that he is wrong. Five eighty-nine souls had been lost, not seven.
She lifts her face up and scans through the crowd, searching for one person. Her eyes stop at a certain black head.
Her brown eyes meet Harry Potter's equally blank green eyes. And within instants she knows.
Now, Ginevra Weasley knows that he knows. She knows that he is aware of the fact that two more souls had been lost in that battle.
She remembers Bill quoting that 'too much knowledge is dangerous'. Sometimes Ginevra Weasley wishes that she did not know so much. It destroyed her from inside, slowly, painfully.
Sometimes, Ginevra Weasley wishes that she could feel happy for Ginny and Harry. Yet, she only feels jealousy. They were safe in their graves together and she, she was in hers all alone.
Sometimes, Ginevra Weasley wishes that she had not shut down on love. Because, in spite of the pain in brought along, it had finally brought salvation for Ginny and Harry.
But alas, she knows that wishes do not come true.
Sometimes, she wishes that they did.
FINITE INCANTATEM
ONLY READ AHEAD IF YOU HAVE SOME CONFUSION REGARDING THE MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES OF GINNY AND HARRY. OTHERWISE SKIP THIS PART AND MOVE ONTO THE A/N.
NOTES:
Ginevra is the other, more cynical and rational side of Ginny that had been created by her to help overcome the shadows of the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry Potter is the outer persona put up by Harry to fulfil the expected image of the brave, rash Gryffindor hero.
Harry and Ginny fall in love. Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley remain indifferent.
In the end, Harry and Ginny die, or in other words the shadows become so powerful that their other personality overwhelms them. But, their love was strong. So the parts of the souls that belong to them break apart and move on together, instead of being ploughed down and buried deep within the memories of the other parts.
This leaves behind two shattered souls, emotionless and cold. And they both regret this; they both regret refusing love. They both wish that things had happened differently, but, they know that wishes don't come true.
AUTHOR NOTES:
I honestly don't know why I did this. I just switched on the laptop and typed.
If any reader has stuck till the end, please review. If that reader happens to be also a reader of my Ripples Of Time And Death, then please, I need your help. I am seriously out of inspiration for the next chapter. I have rewritten it thirteen times and don't want to do it again.
Till the next time,
IrrationalRationality