Title: Into Oblivion
Canon: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Nope, it aint mine!
Characters: Harry, Ginny mainly
Timeline: Post COS
Pairings: Harry/Ginny but not explicit
Genre: Angst/Spiritual (self but not Godly)
Rating: PG13 just for some mentions at bullying but I guess we all read everything anyways…
Warnings: Slight mentions of abuse and horrible themes
Summary: I always thought that they would have shared something from the Chamber experience but nothing ever came up. So how did they get over it? Or did they?
When the night came, full moon over the horizon like a torch in a steep and desolate path, the darkened sky opened up and bled the tears they could not shed, the wet mourning that would not come. Two separate beings in a small step looked at one another.
Her glossy red hair streaked rich purple in the moonlight while his shadow-dark hair looked as if it was tangled into the abyss of the night, strands of silver webbing winking invisibly. Hooded eyes shown as if the glowing orbs of a fierce predator. They were innocent but not naïve; tainted but not completely darkened. They were not snuffed out but their free will had been taken from them.
They shone in the dark like pure white in the bleak water of the dead Delta Nile long forgotten, like the memory of one who could not see. Breath came quiet and the scents intermixed with nothing, a sound not heard, a vibration not felt, a movement that touched all and none. She followed in his steps. He leads her by the gaze of his magic and something else. The moon, though hidden behind an avalanche of ghostly clouds, shone brightly as if lighting the way of danger. They were a boat hanging on its last thread with no way to get to shore past that thick and heavy caresses of the sea, calling them down, down with him.
Tom.
She shivered.
He watched her, knowing. If someone had asked them what they were doing, they could say nothing. Their mouths would not open and their eyes would show nothing through a window. There would be nothing to explain because this was pure, raw being that controlled them now. They needed this.
"What are we doing?" she asked him without making a sound. Her eyes blinked in the darkness even though her paling skin did not shine with a luminescence she no longer felt. His fey eyes and ethereal tone held back anything the world could comprehend. Yet he saw everything, saw her how no one else would.
The tilt of her head, the flow of her shoulder hidden by the lacy white sleeve of her nightgown torn away in the night. She knew him, the pause of his lips and the angle of his feet telling her when he was ready to fly away or stay put in the filthy world that had granted them magic and torn their lives asunder into pitch black darkness.
They had found each other. Well, he had found her. In a deep and dark chamber reeking of old death and water reeking beneath a school where children laughed and played and made feuds that would have repercussions long after they are dead, buried, and forgotten in the pages of history.
It was a story, right out of a fairytale. Prince Charming came to rescue Sleeping Beauty from her deep and doozy, unnatural sleep. Only the books never mentioned that the Prince was long orphaned and ridiculed, that he held little wealth in himself and was like some creature left out at night never to return. The story books never let it known that the Princess was the youngest child and only daughter, that she was ignored and trapped in a nasty design that had a ninety-nine point nine nine chance of ending in both of their demises.
And yet, here they were. Two small adults were left trapped in the anxiety of the unraveled world that no one had understood. And as he sat over her body, a dead serpent dying in front of them and a un-inked diary off to the side, she felt a pull as he called her back into life and the wakened world where only they were truly awake to the danger and discontent.
Now, now he led her by the unexplained bond between them she followed. The sky opened up and let out a drizzle of soft droplets. Eyes closed, each let their head fall back as one and embraced the cool air. He wore a shirt too-large for him and she wore a thing gown that was nearly see-through and the chilly air hit them as warmth. No one would ever be sure as to the actual reason for it, but its all abstract, its all just something that holds you up when all you can do is fall down for lack of strength, of hope.
Of reason.
A wind blew as if to answer, "What you need to do," but there was no real words save for the gently sway of the night air traveling past.
His head turns out into a darkness surrounded with the bleak oblivion cast around it. Her head turned with his and her eyes opened. She did not know, she could not comprehend. But she trusted. He turned to her as if to say, "Come on, we're going in there," towards the trees smaller than that tiny white of her nails or the sill of the Burrow.
She didn't turn and glare, to ask, "Are you crazy?!" in such a rhetorical idea, but it did not matter. They understood each other with this, knew that the other was a twin that wasn't, a partner that should not be, a friend they had never really taken in to account.
Suddenly they're running. It's like a dream and their footsteps fall without the splash of water on the earth beneath their feet as they run across fields and mud. It takes two seconds and an eternity; it's ten feet and a whole country away. Everything is immeasurable except for the presence of the other. Rushing away from the Burrow that is everything they want and yet cannot share, a shimmer flies across the earth and envelopes them.
"Are we dreaming?" goes unasked but either wants to know. The cool air turns to a chill but adrenaline rushes and leaves nothing to be bothered with.
They are closing in on the patch of forest now, bedrock trees with limps and leaves falling every which way in a pattern that cannot be traced but is understood by this pair of jaded children that are no longer innocent. The rattle of leaves as a gust of wind swirls upwards shivers like sound and they feel entombed in their mothers' wombs or tucked softly in bed-she cannot take the pity of this and he does not have the memories for it-comfort is an idea they do not understand save for these few stolen moments.
They are in the green, green brush and rushing. Bare feet hit the once-packed earth and a lesser pair of fey children would have fallen. Skin touches life and death, soil of the earth that will one day be ash with their bodies. They run but there is no splash. They are invisible to the normal world and float like apparitions in this hidden place. A small devil of a gust hits him just as he gets to a pond. He launches himself against a tree and spirals from one to another as he lands on a high branch in less than a few mere decimals of a second and a year, avoiding the deepening water like a thrown punch or an attacking spell; plenty of shady dealing with Malfoy over the school year and the long experience with his bully of a cousin's gang have taught him quick reactions.
Following, she is not quite as apt to do this, and easily misses a step. She is going to fall, fall the inches and thirty yards down to the stormy wet ground. But he knows her.
His hand reaches out and catches her own as if going after the snitch. Instead of clasping to entomb he holds on and grasps her hand with his own in a tight grip. The branch creaks in reply but gives no threat. She quits falling. Looking up, her eyes meet his. "I will save you," goes unsaid. Whether to catch from a fall or be with in it does not really matter. The dew on the branch is slick but he pulls her up as if she ways nothing, and seats her next to him.
The foliage around them ceases its murmurs and they stare back towards the burrow through a blanks space in the sticks and stems, as if looking through a window at what they cannot touch. They say nothing and make no noise towards what they cannot have and are barred from by unsuspecting patrons.
They are alike in this. They'll be okay if the other is there to catch and be caught. And she takes his hand.
END.
Wow. I kinda liked this. I just did this tonight/this morning and it turned out a little better than I thought. I'd hoped for more but I guess it was idle. Oh well. It's something kinda nice. A little angsty, but what isn't that I write? Not that I haven't tried to write humor but ever time I do my comp. freaks out and it disappears… anywho, MERRY XMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hopefully I'll have more of something out in a couple days or next week. But no promises.