Scattered
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the setting.
A/N: Originally a songfic, till I got round to taking the lyrics out. Based on Scattered by Green Day.
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Ginny sat on the dormitory floor, her legs stretched out in front of her. There was no one else in the room; they were all off doing their own thing. In a way, that was what she was doing. If they had known what her 'own thing' was, they probably wouldn't have left her alone.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the multitude of photos strewn over the plush carpet; photos that all featured the same face, the face that remained sacred to the trancelike redhead.
The face was that of a seventeen year old girl with wavy brown chestnut hair and chocolate eyes; in some photos she was smiling and laughing, in others frowning, and in one or two close to tears. Ginny didn't care; they were all sacred to her.
She had been so happy before. She knew exactly where her life was going. When she left school, she was going to teach. She could apply at Hogwarts, or she could move abroad and teach at Beauxbatons, Durmstrang or Salem, or anywhere else.
But that was before. She couldn't leave now. She was held in the thrall of the girl who would probably bear her brother's children. It wasn't fair.
It was getting harder every day. The world wasn't such a great place to be when you'd fallen in love with your best friend. It was a hideous place to be when you knew she would never return your feelings.
Ginny reached into her bag, lying beside her on the floor. She unzipped one of the pockets and pulled out a small blade, her Herbology knife. It probably had traces of some plant or other on it, but that was even better. She lived in hope that, after the desensitisation of hundreds of cuts, it might start to hurt again.
There was nothing left now. When you'd fallen this hard for someone, and spent all your time trying desperately not to look at them, life felt a little pointless.
At first it had been fun; a little challenge. Then it got to the stage where she thought about her all the time. When she could barely be near her without touching her.
Ginny held the blade up to the light. It was sharp.
Ginny lowered the blade to her wrist. Usually she wouldn't dream of doing anything that people might notice, but this time was different. Final.
The tears were coming faster now, falling on the blade and the skin. Good. The salt might make it hurt.
She touched the cold metal against the skin, pressed down, and drew it sharply sideways. She watched with satisfaction as first blood was drawn. Her silent tears continued to fall as she cut again, and again.
It wasn't long before she began to feel faint. She fell backwards, still clutching tight hold of the knife.
She began to see stars, tiny pinpricks of light that grew larger and larger. She no longer noticed the stinging in her wrist, or the bloodstained pictures on the floor. Instead, the one she had come to see as her guardian angel appeared in front of her.
The wavy-haired girl held out her hand. She wore a long white robe, and she smiled in the way Ginny loved so much.