A/N- I edited this on July 8th thanks to my wonderful betas, Ailleann and Sydney.
The young person sat up in her bed, sweating incessantly from the unbearable heat of the agonizing summer months. This person, after glancing briefly around her eerily quiet room, heaved one of the most depressing sighs ever heard.
This wasn't right. And it wouldn't change. Maybe because this pretty red-haired girl didn't feel like a person at all. In fact, she didn't feel anything. Just a dull numbness that, if and when she concentrated on enough, made her so chilled that she couldn't remember anymore why on earth she was so sweaty. Nothing could take this horribly numb feeling away. She had tried everything; Quidditch, revising an insane amount, making new, exciting friends; heck, she had even tried dating a few random boys that would, and did, make any other normal girl's heart swoon giddily.
But, no, happiness didn't seem to ever want to enter Ginny Weasley's life again. Not even sadness, anger, or disappointment came to her anymore. The only thing that came even close was an empty tiredness that continually made her even more exhausted. This feeling didn't come from any sort of lack of sleep. Instead, she felt tired of everything imaginable in her life. The dreadful school year coming up, all of her superficial, shallow friends at Hogwarts, her brothers, daily doing multiple, small things that, for some reason, sent her dangerously close to the borderline of insanity. The very same things the Ginny had tried to take away the numbness were the same things that she was so very tired of. Not to mention her parents, who were always fretting about her safety. the fact that her family was dirt poor didn't really help the matter either. Last, but most definitely not least, were her brother's two best friends, whom Ginny had spent a fair amount of time with over the last several years. The very same things the Ginny had tried to take away the numbness were the same things that she was so very tired of.
It seemed to Ginny that her bushy-haired friend, Hermione, just couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business. And now it's finally starting to catch up with her, Ginny thought with a smirk. Immediately she felt a wave of guilt hit her. Hermione was her friend. She had been there for Ginny many times, trying to make the younger girl feel better. There it was again. All this talk about feelings. What was so great about them anyway? Ginny had repeatedly tried to convince herself that she actually believed that but it just wouldn't work. She steered her mind away from this subject and onto another, reaching desperately, blindly, hopelessly back into her mind for something else. But the only thing she could come up with was possibly even more painful. Harry.
That one word, that name, caused the closest thing possible to an actual feeling for Ginevra Weasley. And she hated it. Despised it with all of her being. She wanted more than anything to just get over him. But she couldn't. She didn't have a clue how he felt about her, and pretended that she didn't care at all, even though she actually did. Ginny was one of the only ones that wasn't bothered by Harry's recent, moody behavior. Maybe because she was numb, but probably because she understood. Understood what it was like to just for it all to be over, or at least be alone. Alone for a very long time.
It was this, this invisible connection, that now ultimately attracted Ginny to Harry. Like a fly to the sticky paper that would be its inevitable doom. And Ginny knew this would happen. As blatantly and disgustingly cheesy as it sounded, Harry Potter was the light in the monstrous, dark abyss that surrounded Ginny, smothering her. The hope that he could possibly understand her and pull her out of the gaping, bottomless hole she was falling into was what kept her alive. With this thought, Ginny restlessly rolled to her side, hoping that the aching tiredness she felt would help her go to sleep more quickly for once; and rushed back to the chilling, horrendous nightmares she had every night, every time she closed her eyes.
Many miles away, the subject of Ginny's last thoughts before she went back to her torturous sleep sat up, sweating just as badly as she had been. This person happened to be going through a very similar hell, not realizing his cure was so very close. She was lying in the same house as the closest thing to a real family he had ever had. But both of these humans felt only one main thing.
They felt numb.