Scar
He sat alone by the lake. The heavy black cloud in the sky above was obscuring the sun and he was glad of it. It was no good to be sad when the sun was streaming down on you. The cloud's shadow covered the entire castle and much of the lake. He could see the glimmer and sparkle of the water lapping the far shore; the only place he could see that the sun touched.
He turned away, grunting with disgust. No where should be allowed to be happy, not when he was in this mood. He dropped his head into his hands. He could hear faint sounds of cheering, intermixed with the odd cry of anguish. Of laughter and happiness, or, if not happiness, then at least relief. They seeped out through the thick stone walls of the castle, passing by otherwise impermeable protections. They threatened to engulf him. They threatened to spoil his bad mood.
He didn't know how long he had sat there, but it felt like years. It felt like forever.
"Draco?"
The voice that dragged him out of his reverie was soft and sweet. It belonged to a girl, and he was sure that he recognised it, yet he couldn't place it.
"Draco?" the girl asked again. "What's wrong?"
"Go away," he replied in a voice muffled by his hands.
"Come on, everyone's in the Great Hall. Draco, it's over, it's finished."
"It's not finished for me."
"What do you mean?" asked the girl. "It's finished for everyone. He's dead, Draco. He's dead. Do a favour to the people who lost their lives and come and help."
Draco looked up. "Weasley," he said.
Ginny gazed down at him with pity in her eyes. "Draco, please. Come inside out of the cold. We're all on the same side now."
"You think it'll be so easy!" Draco shouted, something inside of him snapping. "You think everything'll be fine!" Well it won't! Not for me. I fought on the wrong side, Weasley, and now I have to pay."
"Draco..."
"I've lost everything. Everything, Ginny Weasley. Everything. My family, my pride, my goal- I'm going to waste my life in Azkaban because of my father's decisions."
Ginny glared at Draco and he almost cowered from her penetrating stare. Almost, but not quite.
"You can't blame your father for the choices you made, Draco. You have to take responsibility for your own actions. And-" she choked back her feelings- "you're not the only one who has lost things." She was almost in tears; he could see her eyes filling up with water, threatening to spill over.
"Who did you lose?" he asked awkwardly, curiously.
"Fred," said Ginny. She dropped down beside him. "I lost my big brother." She couldn't hold back the tears any longer and they cascaded down her cheeks in a flood.
Draco had nothing to say to this, and they sat in silence, not touching, not even looking at each other.
Ginny heard footsteps nearby. Whoever it had been didn't come over, but the sound reminded her that she should be in the Great Hall with her grieving family. She stood up slowly, her whole body aching from the stress and exertion it had suffered during the final battle. She felt like screaming at the young man beside her but she didn't. He wasn't worth anything.
She took one last glance at his prone figure and closed eyes. Then she walked away, leaving him alone, as he had been before.
Draco opened his eyes to see Ginny walking away from him, striding towards the castle. As she got smaller and smaller, a vague thought was forming in his head.
I am scarred.
He remembered his childhood; the days spent on his own, waiting for his father to come home, to notice him, to punish him for any crime he hadn't even realised he had committed.
He remembered receiving his letter, and he remembered the overwhelming feeling of joy that had filled his eleven year old self.
He remembered his father's last words before he left: "Don't mix with the wrong sorts."
He remembered his threatening tone and the ice cold fear that had struck his young heart.
He had been innocent then.
"Ginny!" he called, and she turned to face him.
The distance between them blurred the details of her face, but she still looked beautiful. He took a step towards her and then she closed the distance, almost running to him and yet not quite. She kept her dignity at the last moment and merely walked.
"Draco," she said, stopping in front of him. "Are you coming?"
She held out her right hand to him, waiting.
"I-"
He looked at her outstretched hand, her soft palm facing skyward.
"I-"
"Please," she begged, her brown eyes large and round. "Come inside."
"I-"
He swallowed, and then took her hand. It felt warm against his clammy fingers.
"Alright," he said.
Ginny smiled. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."
And even as they walked back to the castle hand in hand, ready to face the destruction and sorrow inside, they knew it was over and from now on things could only get better. And Draco could feel himself healing, the open wounds in his heart closing.
But he would always bear those scars.
The End
The Joy Luck Club Challenge - Rising From The Flame's challenge.
Rules:
- Whichever chapter title you choose has to be the title of your story.
- The title has to make sense with your story.
- Nothing M-rated, no lemons, nothing explicit.
- No slash or incest.
- It can be as long or as short as you want.
- I will read everything posted (as long as it's not slash, incest or explicit.
Prompts/Titles:
The Joy Luck Club
Scar
The Red Candle
The Moon Lady
Rules of the game
The Voice from the Wall
Half and Half
Two Kinds
Rice Husband
Four Directions
Without Wood
Best Quality
Magpies
Waiting Between the Trees
Double Face
A Pair of Ticket
I chose the prompt 'Scar'.