This is the full story behind the songfic that I wrote to "My Immortal" by Evanescence. I fell in love with Ginny and Draco's beginning and decided to write a full fic to expand upon the plot. This will not be pretty all of the time.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, obviously, nor do I own any places that you'll recognize. Any additional characters, places, and this plot are mine. I only say this once.
Dedications: This story is dedicated to SycoCallie for reading every chapter of my other fic, Eventually, which I will update, I promise! Also, this one goes out to Amethyst Jackson for being my HP and political hero. Even if you think you hate H/Hr pairings, go read her stuff. It changed my mind.
And now, the story…..
My Immortal
Prologue
He sat alone by the window, engulfed in darkness but for the tiny sliver of moonlight that played a stripe down his profile. His normally playful personality had been subdued since before his arrival and was maintained through the duration of his visit. He tried to hide it, and he might have failed had his two best friends wanted to see the truth, which they hadn't. They knew that he was inwardly scarred, of course, but he laughed every day, played enthusiastic games of Quidditch with the family, got into a soap suds fight while helping with the dishes. Yes, he had smiled quite a bit and his friends were relieved upon making this observation in a rushed, private conversation, interpreting this to mean that he was alright.
But he wasn't.
He wanted to die.
And no one wanted to believe it except for the unlikely pair of brown eyes that now watched him from a distance.
It was the middle of the night; everyone except the burdened young man by the window and the empathetic girl watching him was sleeping. It had been that way every night for two weeks now. Of course, she hadn't spent every evening watching him. She wasn't that obsessed. No, she wasn't obsessed at all…just worried…just shaken from the dreams or visions? she kept experiencing.
She contemplated approaching him, knowing that her presence would be rejected and appreciated all the same; now all she had to do was decide how to deal with the rejected part. It wouldn't be the first time; it wouldn't be the last. She watched his back stiffen and realized that she couldn't leave now, even if she wanted to. He had already sensed her presence.
She took a deep breath and approached him tentatively, on tiptoe. She raised a delicate hand to place it on his shoulder, and she noticed that his oversized shirt had slipped down a little, offering her a view of his bare skin. Her hand hovered above his skin for a moment. His voice startled her out of her mission and she dropped her hand back to her side. He sighed.
"What do you want, Gin?" He sounded tired. She didn't want to bother him, but oh! she knew that he needed someone to talk to.
"I watched you today, you know. And not just today, the last couple of days, actually," she began.
"And how is that a new thing?" he spat, annoyed. He turned to face her and she could see the contempt in his eyes. She was scared for a minute, but the fear passed and she straightened her posture.
"I refuse to allow you to be mean to me, Harry James Potter! Just because I used to have a crush on you does not mean that I do now, nor does that have anything to with why I'm here!" He shrank at the fury in her eyes, then watched in wonder as they softened.
"Anyway," she was calmer now. "I-I just want you to know that I pay attention, Harry, th-that I know that you're not doing well, and…"
"And what, Gin?"
"And that I'm not afraid to see what's really going on with you, what my brother and Hermione choose not to see." She did place her hand on his shoulder this time and she felt him shiver, whether from her touch or the cold, she really didn't care. "I know that you're still hurting over Cedric's death."
At the mention of that incident, Harry forced a swallow down around the lump in his throat. He turned his face back to the window so she wouldn't see the tears, if he did, indeed, start to cry and ultimately embarrass himself.
"Ginny, I know you mean well, but, gah! You can't understand what I'm dealing with! All of a sudden, I've got these crazy emotions, this, this….hatred! And I can't stand myself for it!" He slapped his hand down hard on the windowsill in frustration as he stood up and whirled back to face her once again. He was struck all at once by her unwillingness to back down or avert her brandy gaze from his. She was right. She wasn't afraid of him. And something about that upset him.
She just looked at him, knowing that he was evaluating her strength, and therefore, her right to be standing before him offering an escape from the burden of one. His face had grown longer somehow, filled out more. There was maturity in his emerald eyes that held a full other side effect emotion…was it malice? He had grown taller over the summer, no longer dwarfed by Ron, and his muscles had become a little more toned. He was still skinny, but he made up for that in the way he carried himself.
She felt her eyes start to waver, and she broke the intense stare. She tried to speak, but had to clear her throat in order to not sound like someone who had cried all night.
He watched her lips as she parted them to speak.
"Harry, I know it's hard to not hate. Maybe you want to hold onto the hate; it will give you motivation and strength to take on Voldemort, no? So you tell yourself to keep it in your grasp, to only use it to fuel your mission…"
"So? What's your point, Ginny? What do you know about these things?" He tried to go around her but was stopped by a firm press against his chest and a soft determination in her eyes.
"The very hate that you want to use will turn you to the side that you want to defeat."
The unexpected statement was more than he had dreamed could come from this small figure. He was hit hard, and he stared, mouth slightly open, and pondered her wise words. She was correct, of course. It was a statement that he would have expected from Hermione, never Ginny. She seemed too out of the loop, too innocent, too bloody young for that kind of insight…and he was intrigued. She lowered her head, mistaking his silence for malice and guilt washed over him as he struggled to understand. She was the only one who really got his introvertedness this summer. But how?
"I was in the chamber, you know. I did terrible things to my friends, well, Colin anyway, he was my only friend then…and I looked up to Hermione. I know how it feels to have hurt people in ways that you cannot control. Anyway, Harry, I'm sorry that I bothered you. Maybe I have some sick passion for helping lost puppies or something of the sort; I don't know. But I know that I'm not wanted here. I don't even know why I try anymore. If you don't want to talk to me, fine. I don't care. But I hope that you find something to channel everything into, anyway." For a moment, there was silence. Then the quiet was broken by the Muggle clock downstairs that rang on the hour.
"Happy Birthday, Harry."
He wanted to apologize, but she was already gone. He knew that he'd hurt her, and he was sorry. He wanted to tell her that her words had made sense, made him feel comforted, but he couldn't; for one, she had just gone into the loo and shut the door, and for two, her words had also scared him. She did have passion for things, relentlessly so. But there was a morbid side to her that he had failed to understand until this very evening. He had seen it before, and scoffed at it, blaming that as the reason that he didn't bother to be better friends with her. But he knew that he could trust her; that perhaps, she might be the only one to understand this side of him.
His desperate hold on that thought was what calmed him enough to enable him to sleep that night.
He woke that morning to shouting. He looked over to the other bed in the room, and noticed that Ron was still sleeping. The Weasley's had always been a loud bunch, and over time, he'd gotten used to it. For the first time in days, he managed a small but genuine smile as he decided that he would tell Ginny all that there was running through his mind in relation to the incident that past June. He had just closed his eyes again when shrieks pierced his ears, presumably from Molly Weasley. She sounded hysterical.
"Oh my! Oh Merlin! Arthur! Arthur!" Harry peeked his head out of the door and watched Mrs. Weasley slump to the floor, hand covering her mouth, and continued shrieking. "Oh, my little girl! My little girl!" she repeated. At this, Harry came running down the hall toward Molly who was staring in shock through the open door of the loo. Harry turned to see what had her so scared, and he nearly vomited.
He heard Hermione's cry behind him.
"Someone get her out! She might still be alive! Oh, Ron, MOVE!! Oh, I'll do it myself!" And Hermione ran into the bathroom frantically. Harry quickly joined her at the side of the tub.
Between the two, they hauled Ginny Weasley's pale, limp body out of the bathtub filled with bloody water.
A/N: I know that this is not only a short chapter, but it's bloody morbid, sorry. I also know that there's no Draco in it right now, much less D/G, but it HAS to be so in order to properly set up the story. Harry will not be a mindless bumbling idiot in this piece, either. I refuse, heh. The next chapter is longer and really begins the story…Please Review. Also, if you REALLY want to please the author, please go read "Eventually…" Give it a whirl. Ginny really doesn't come in a lot before chapter 6, but it is a complex story…so do me a favor? Please? shameless plug