After The War
Chapter one
Ginny.
A soft yellow glow illuminated the tiny, packed room; at least forty women and girls were sprawled across the floor; personal space had gone out the window as thousands of people scrounged for a decent place to catch up on some much needed sleep in the wrecks of the once magnificent castle.
Ginny Weasley turned her head – the only body part she could move without jostling someone else- and closed her eyes once more, attempting to block out the myriad of voices that pounded her brain, each one fighting to be heard over the others. The room itself was silent but for the deep breathing sounds of her sleeping companions, the battle having ended what seemed like an age but was, in reality a few hours ago. However, a new war was raging in the heart of Ginny Weasley, and it was one that didn't seem to have any desire to end any time soon.
'Go and find him! Tell him how you feel!'
'Don't be stupid! He doesn't love you, he said so himself. Just move on!'
'Move on! Now who's being stupid?'
'He could have any girl on the planet, why in the hell would he pick you?'
'He loved me once, I know he did.'
'Oh, said that himself did he?'
'Well, no but...'
'But nothing! You are nothing to him. Some girl he used to know. His best friend's sister. A child. Nothing. And you'll only end up hurting yourself if you try and fool yourself otherwise.'
'That's a lie!'
'Is it? Then why has he not tried to find you already?'
'Because... well, maybe... er...'
'Yes?'
'...'
'Exactly. He doesn't care.'
This internal monologue went on for some time before Ginny decided that she needed some air and space away from the irritatingly peaceful atmosphere in the makeshift bedroom that contrasted so dramatically with the way she felt. And so she began the painfully slow process of getting to her feet and manoeuvring between the sleeping lions that blocked her path to freedom. Luckily she was fairly close to the door which had been left open to prevent the cramped room overheating; even so the journey took a good five minutes to complete. Once in the hall she began to run and didn't stop until she could feel the crisp, cool, morning air sooth her burning lungs and clear her frenzied mind. The realisation that she was standing by the lake swept through her; as she attempted to outrun her thoughts she had also succeeded in losing all sense of direction, she just let her feet take her wherever they pleased.
Suddenly a prickling sensation down her spine made her aware of someone watching her every move. She whipped her head around to glare at her spectator, angry that her private moment was not as private as she thought. However, anger dissolved into shock as she saw who it was...
Harry.
The sleeping forms of Hermione and Ron were silhouetted by the early morning light that streamed through the thin chequered curtains making the room glow with a strange yellow light that cast long pale shadows across the floor and walls. Their bodies were intertwined and despite both being fully clothed and fast asleep, the sheer unhindered intimacy was so pure that it caused a surge of loneliness and longing in the heart of Harry Potter.
He rose to his feet and slowly drew back the tattered curtain, the grounds in all their splendour lay before him. The parts of the grass that hadn't been trampled into oblivion were rich green but it was the lake that caught his eye; the clear blue waters sparkled merrily, gentle ripples dancing across the surface.
He pushed open the old wooden door as far as he knew it would go without creaking and slipped out, closing it gently behind him.
The air was cold, crisp and clean. As it filled his lungs he could almost feel it cleaning his breathing passages, making his nose tingle with cold. The morning dew soaked his feet and the hems of his jeans but he didn't care, he just kept on walking until he reached the edge of the lake. Upon arrival he sat, leaning against an old willow whose branches gently tickled the surface and watched as the sky turned from pale pink to soft blue and golden, wisps of pinkish cloud hovering lazily on the horizon.
He closed his eyes and the image of a girl flashed behind his lids. Her hair was vivid, vibrant ginger and her eyes were gentle, kind but full of humour. She was beaming at him, her eyes sparkling with hidden jokes.
His eyes snapped open again; he didn't want to think about her.
He couldn't think about her.
But there she was.
Standing but a few yards in front of him wearing an oversized white shirt and rolled up jeans she seemed to have tumbled right out of his memory. An all consuming sensation of longing coursed through his being and he found himself frozen, gazing open mouthed as she stared back at him.
'Hey.'
'Hey.'
...
Please comment with any improvements – it's all invaluable to me new chapter coming soon if you think its good enough, let me know! I have big plans for this little piece.