By: Lady Lithe
Summary: He would whisper in her ear that she was his savior. And she would whisper right back that he was wrong. It was he that always saved her. He always saved her. Her hero. And she couldn't even save him.
Discalimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Naru-chan: Hi everyone. So...I was listening to really sad music and this sort of came out... I'll explain everything at the end if you don't understand it. Also, let me explain now the title.
Precipice - noun - 1. A cliff with a vertical or overhanging face; 2. A situation of great peril
Also, a little suggestion: Listen to "Comtine D'un Autre Ete" by Yann Tiersen while reading this. You can find it on Youtube. It's a beautiful song. Now...enjoy.
Precipice
I am a dreamer, and when I wake
You can break my spirit. It's my dream you take.
As you move on
Remember me. Remember us and all we used to be.
-James Blunt, Goodbye My Lover
"Such a cruel woman."
She closed her eyes and blocked out all the vicious whispers passing about. They didn't understand a thing. A flame of anger rushed through her veins. How dare they assume that they knew a goddamn single thing? They didn't know her and they didn't know him. Not the way they knew each other. They couldn't even comprehend all the tears she had shed — but not in front of him. She always tried not to cry in front of him. In the end he had wanted to see her smile. He had wanted to see his strong Ginny.
"If he were her, he would have gone insane."
No one would ever come marginally close to the bond that they shared. They understood and accepted each other completely. He knew her better than she knew herself, perhaps. And she knew him in the same way. He would sit in the chair closer to the window because he knew that she disliked having her back face it. She knew to always add an extra dab of honey whenever she was making treacle tarts, his favorite dessert. He would lean over her shoulder and breath in deeply, claiming that half of the reason it tasted so delicious was its smell mixed with the scent of crushed flower petals – her special scent. And she would laugh as his arms encircled her waist. Then they would gently kiss.
"Mad. He would be absolutely mad."
She opened her honey golden eyes to gaze at the white marble tomb in front of her. The bitter wind blew against her, causing her black dress to billow in the wind. But it wasn't a sign of defeat. Slowly, she pushed away the black veil from her pale face. She wanted no illusions — no tricks. This was reality. This white tomb.
"Such a great and honorable man…and not a single tear."
This was her husband.
"Despicable."
Their wedding had been perfect. It had been small and the pretty white chapel where his parents had wed had only been filled with those that they loved and cherished. As she walked down the aisle, only he had filled her vision. The happy tears that burned at her eyes were mirrored in his emerald ones. It was the happiest day of their lives.
"The Daily Prophet was right."
They had known this was coming. They had held each other — clinging desperately to one another's body. He would bury his face in her scarlet tresses as she pressed her face to his chest, praying that he didn't have to leave her. It wouldn't be fair. He had left her once, only to come back, and that had been hard enough. There would be no justice in the world if fate were to take him from her again.
"I always knew she never deserved him."
But with time, acceptance had come. They both knew it was inevitable. One or the other would go, but she had sworn that if he left, she would follow him. He had smiled at her with such unbearable sadness in his eyes that she began to break down. He had held her shaking frame and told her that that was the last thing he wanted.
"She should take his place."
She had believed that she should be the one that had to go. He had faced so much in his life as it was. Life had never been kind to him and she wanted to give to him all that he never had. A happy life. A warm family. A wonderful love.
"She never really loved him."
When she told him this, he had chuckled so softly, pressing her hands against his lips. She didn't realize, he had said, that if she left him he would lose everything. He would be the unhappiest man on the face of the earth and he would never be able to share another love like the one they had. Any other family would be freezing cold in comparison to the family they could make together. And what's more was that when he was with her, he didn't want to receive, but he wanted to give. He wanted to give everything his heart could. And she would hold him close again, and whisper in his ear that what he gave her was more than enough.
"She always wanted too much from him."
Sometimes he would cry out in the middle of the night. Panic attacks. Shaking, with sweat pouring down his forehead, causing his raven locks to plaster themselves against his skin, he would scream. Heart breaking screams filled with agony unheard of by any other. Sweat mingled with the bitter salty tears that streaked down his pale face. He clawed at the sheets with all his might. All the names of those he couldn't save…the profound burden of death on his chest. He wouldn't be able to breath.
"Nothing she did helped him."
She would rise over him, her silent eyes watching him in the dark midnight blue light, and his wild emerald eyes would watch her as he wheezed for breath. She would then lower herself down onto him, capturing his lips. She would blow into him, sending him all the carbon dioxide she could, willing him to live. Slowly, painfully slowly, his mad heartbeat would steady and he would lift his trembling hands and tangle them in her hair and draw her closer.
"She drove him to his death."
He would whisper in her ear that she was his savior.
"She killed him."
And she would whisper right back that he was wrong.
"Killed him!"
It was he that always saved her.
"She doesn't love him."
He always saved her.
"Bitch."
Her hero.
"Such a bitch."
And she couldn't even save him.
When I'm gone…"Mum."
Don't say such things.
There was a tugging at her hand.
No. Listen. When I'm gone, you have to live.
"Mum…"
Don't ask that of me. Don't you dare.
The tugging became slightly fiercer, almost frantic.
You have to go on living without me. I know you can do it. You have to.
"I don't understand."
I can't…I can't. If you leave me, you're taking all that is life to me with you. I'll die. I swear to you that I will die! If you go, you're taking me with you! You know that. So please... Don't say another word. Because this is a silly conversation.
"Dad."
Ginny…
"Daddy."
No. This is a silly conversation. As long as you never leave me, you don't have to worry. Don't have to say such foolish things. So don't go. Don't leave me…
"Where's Dad?"
We knew that one day –
"What's that, baby?"
Don't say another word Harry! If you do…you're admitting it. You're admitting that you're sick. You're admitting that there's something wrong.
"Where did he go?"
You know —
"Why isn't he here?"
THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU! Oh, God, there's nothing wrong with you…
"Why did he leave us?"
There's nothing wrong…there's nothing wrong…so don't say anything. If you do, it means you've stopped fighting. You've given up… Oh my God, y-you're saying that you're going to l-leave me Harry…!
"Doesn't he love us anymore?"
You're wrong, Ginny.
She sunk to her knees and embraced the little raven-haired boy.
I'm never going to leave you. I'll be here. Right by your side. I'll be right here. When you close your eyes. When you smile. When you laugh. When you cry. I'll be here. I'll be right here by your side.
"Silly, silly boy," she said, her voice breaking slightly as she stroked his hair. Stoked the hair of the boy who looked exactly like his father except for his eyes. He had his mother's eyes. She closed her eyes and felt the warm wind caressing her face as it enveloped her and her son. And she knew. She knew. A single hot tear slipped down her pale cheeks. "Don't you see? Daddy didn't go anywhere. Daddy's right here."
Naru-chan: takes a deep breath Okay. So here's my little explination if you want it and didn't understand. So...Ginny and Harry were married - I'm sure that much you could make out. He would have panic attacks at night, which are attacks that make you feel like you're unable to breathe. And this is Harry's funeral.
The speaking is italics in the beginning half are the whispers of the people around her at the funeral. The bolded words are Harry's words. The bolded and italicized are Ginny's. If you're wondering why I left everything so vague, there is a reason. This is all coming from Ginny's point of view - and this situation is one of great peril to her. So much that everything has become almost disjointed in her state of mind. But in the end, everything comes together when she realizes that Harry hasn't left her. I hope that made things clearer.
It's a sad story, yet at the same time, not one. I hope you liked it... Review maybe...? It's really appreciated.