Song-fic Harry/Ginny that wouldn't leave me alone
My Immortal - Evanescence
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, therefore I don't own Harry Potter
She woke up, breathing heavily, covered in sweat and tears. Her hair clung damp to her pale face, and she felt the familiar agonizing pain in her chest that she associated with the worst figments of her imagination. Another nightmare, she thought. Similar to the ones she'd been having for years – with one small difference.
Usually Tom Riddle would be standing over her, laughing uncontrollably, clutching the small diary that she had poured her heart and soul into. She would see an image of her in the reflection of his manic eyes: lying broken, bleeding, stiff on the cold floor of the Chamber, at the foot of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. The Basilisk would be lying, asleep, not 5 feet from her, and she could feel its tail flick side-to-side, tickling her right hand. Tom would be telling her things, how she had single-handedly destroyed the wizarding world, how she would kill everyone she loved, how Harry was going to meet his death –
Normally she woke up at this point, screaming for help and begging for Harry's life. Over time, however, there'd been a few changes.
In some cases, Harry would arrive, brandishing the sword of Gryffindor and strike down the Basilisk and Tom. Almost directly after, though, he'd glance at her and walk away from her. She'd seen this ending at 2 occasions: when Harry broke up with her, and when he left. So she particularly disliked this ending.
Other times Harry would never come, and these were the nightmares that plagued her over her only year at Hogwarts to date without him. Her roommates had been wonderfully sympathetic, helping her to the Hospital Wing for Dreamless Sleep when half the tower had been woken up.
But the rest of the time, she'd watch as Tom killed Harry, her least favourite ending.
Tonight, she'd watched him save her but walk past, and she'd woken up screaming for him to turn around and talk to her.
She climbed shakily out of her bed, her knees almost failing out. She walked into the dark kitchen, and pulled put some of the cocoa she saved for moments like this. She sat up on bench, staring at the middle of the table. Memories flooded her brain – when she first saw Harry the summer before her first year and all the summers after, when they'd shared Gryffindor Tower, when he'd saved her from the Chamber, when he'd kissed her after the Quidditch Cup –
She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt them welling up with tears. She would not cry – did not cry – outside of her bedroom. But somewhere inside her, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold anything in much longer. His scent still lingered in the air, despite the fact he hadn't stepped a foot in this house all year. It was probably something her mother had done on purpose to make the house seem all that more warm and inviting – douse it in Eau de Harry. Classy.
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
She remembered the time she'd caught him crying that one time at Grimmauld Place, the summer before her fourth year. She'd been on the way to the kitchen to find her stash of cocoa when she heard noises from his room. Ordinarily, she would never have dared to enter, but she'd just been trapped in her own mind as he was – and she pushed the door open.
She remembered watching as his body thrashed around in his bed, moaning for help and begging Tom to stop doing whatever he was doing. She remembered holding onto his hand tightly, and soothing him in a soft voice when he had calmed down. She remembered when he woke up, crying, and she had comforted him in the way she had wished to do for years. She remembered watching as he fell back asleep in her arms, and as she pulled the sheets over his settled body, and walking out of his room.
She'd been a part of him since.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
She remembered the DA, where he'd taken charge against the somewhat evil Dolores Umbridge. She remembered how he'd been strong, and how he'd taken charge in a way that left everyone unable to disagree with anything he said. He could capture the attention of a whole room by speaking softly – it made her wonder what kind of damage he'd do if he were shouting. Whenever he spoke, all rational thought left her head and she'd want nothing more than to do exactly what he'd said and excel in it.
And now she was leading the DA.
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
She drained the remainder of her cup and washed it, placing it back in the cupboard as if she'd never moved it. She wiped her eyes, finally glad that there were no more tears, and carefully made her way back up the stairs.
Once she made it to her to her room, she glanced around it. She'd always considered it a safe haven, a place of refuge she could always run to in the event of an emergency. She'd taken away any evidence to suggest she had any social links to Harry – excluding the ever-lingering Eau de Harry, courtesy of her mother – and stored them away under her bed. It felt like an incision in her heart every time she looked at something that even slightly resembled him.
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
Despite anything she'd said or ever would say, Ginny Weasley loved Harry Potter – and there was, sadly, nothing she could do about it.
Somewhere downstairs, Molly Weasley sighed. She knew what was weighing down on her daughter's heart; what thought was always on her mind; what kinds of dreams she'd been having for the past week.
She walked into the kitchen and, taking her daughter's supposedly secret stash, made herself her own cup of cocoa.