-1She turns and says 'are you alright?', I say I must be fine 'cause my heart's still beating.
They kiss - lips latched together like a child's best puzzle. He clenches his winter-dry hands nails jagged from biting leaving red crescents. Rice rains down like snow or dandruff or his illusions - rather shards of his illusions. It's a fucking picture from his fondest nightmare after the one where his parents were the bastards his relatives said they were. The perfect Wedding Picture and they look so happy Ginny's face glowing with love and health, her beau's the picture of joy. Hermione turns to him eyes a blank grey, "Are you alright?"
He grasps the doorknob palms slick with sweat and breath whistling through the cavern where his heart use to be. He wouldn't believe… What he means is that he wouldn't be here if he didn't have faith that - Now probably isn't the time to be thinking about this. So he just opens the door. The knob turns as easily as sin in a bed of filth. The hinges don't squeal not that they could be heard over the bed's torture. Watching the slick bodies on the bed he can feel himself retreating into a deep, dark place. Retreating to a distance where the sadness of killing her could never outweigh his bludgeoning hatred.
He listens to the sound of his heartbreaking as he watches her cross a street. It's not a hard sound to catch his body a misfit skin stretched too tight over leaf-thin bones. Should be eating, should be living but he never planned that far ahead. And he can't… He can't think of what to do her rounding belly mocking him. It's cold and her face is rosy from the wind red hair tucked beneath a black cap. A man approaches tall and lean with a head full of wild brown hair. She laughs eyes closed with mirth as the man plays the fool for her. He can feel magic sparking from his freezing fingertips. They kiss as the street sinks away his hand reaching for his wand hearing someone chuckling far and away in the back of his head.
"Are you going to be alright?" It's a stupid question from a stupid man and he wishes the fool would just go away. Her hand is limp and cold in his own burning pair. Her face is still gorgeous, the bruises barely there. They aren't why he cries. "Can't you fix it?!" The medic's eyes tracing the pattern in the floor and he knows that the reedy laughter is just an echo of a dead man.
The vase breaks against the far wall. She screams briefly peering over the flimsy cloth of her lover's shirt. Harry slams the fool's body into the ceiling again no matter that Ron holds his wand miles from here. If he'd had his wand the walls would run with red if the house weren't a blaze already. Unfocused his powers run amok off-setting a thousand ministry alarms and he could care less though he already stands on thin ice. Oh how he runs the Obliviators ragged. "Stop it!" Not so pretty now tear-stained face crumpled like the skirt he once bought her, like his jaded heart on the floor. Like him as Sirius' fist lays him still.
The red eyes mock him as the pale fingers around her equally pale throat tighten leaving her lips blue. They move whispering and he is rather afraid he knows what they say. Her eyes are such a startling green nearly gold as the end of his life occurs. "Even if you kill me you'll have lost Potter." And the abomination runs his prehensile tongue up the side of her face. They pull him off the body his light-drenched fist straining to further obliterate the bastard's head. Bill vomits in the bushes. And she lies like Ophelia or Daphne descending into Hell's gentle embrace.
He is not Orpheus. She stares at him blankly and he tries to kiss her. She screams and slaps him. Frustrated he can feel his power snap at her. Barely has he restrained it sending a plate of spaghetti into the wall dishware and sauce exploding across the blue expanse. He can easily see her head doing the same and somehow he isn't sorry. They sleep in separate rooms; and he doesn't sleep listening to her sob wrapped tight in her sheets. A river of tears washing away the bright line of the future. This is only one month how much longer can they deal?
The couple smiles at the crowd as he stands and withdraws his wand, he smiles as her face transform in horror. 'What have I become I wonder?' And Hermione can only watch, will only watch Ron just another body in a distant field. There is a sound like the world tearing asunder as he shouts the word Voldemort left him. Her eyes are just as green as he stares into the red eyes and drops his wand. The click of it against the cobblestones sounds like a gun cocked at his head. He wakes up to blue skies and a worried face. "Are you alright?"
"Come and meet me by the riverside. I said it once before but it bears repeating now."