Walk the Night
A/N: This was written for the next round of Fanfiction Idol. The premise was to write something that takes place at night
Disclaimer: I own none of what you recognize.
Harry hates the night, especially when it's so quiet. It has been weeks since the war, yet Harry still wakes up every few hours, screaming. He has taken to casting a silence charm before he goes to sleep. He is staying at The Burrow. He had tried to tell everyone that he was going to stay at Grimmauld, but Mrs. Weasley would not hear it.
Harry walks the shores of the small pond, lost in his thoughts. He looks at the stars. He sees the faces of all the people who died to help him; all the people he feels responsible for.
Everything feels wrong. 'What's the matter with me?' he thinks, picking up a rock and skipping it across the black waters. 'I should feel relief and happiness. All I feel is pain and emptiness.' Harry continues his walk. 'Maybe HE was right, maybe my soul is torn.'
Harry sits on a fallen log and listens to the crickets and frogs play their music. He tries to find the positive, but it eludes him. For months he thought of nothing but Ginny and holding her. Now that it is all over and they are both safe, he is not sure what their future holds.
She is angry with him for leaving. He had done it to protect her. He had been a failure at that as well. She had been tortured because of him. Everyone knew they had been together so, naturally, they thought that she would know where he was. Another failure he blames himself for.
He looks at the stars, and they mock him with their cold beauty. He feels as empty as the sky looks. 'It would have been better if I stayed gone,' he thinks. 'At least there was no pain. Fear and doubt were but a memory there.'
'I had to come back,' he tries to reason with himself. 'Ginny is here.'
His breath explodes out in a sigh of disgust, 'How is that working out for ya?' he asks himself.
He hears a twig snap, and his reflexes from the hunt take over. He rolls to his right and pulls his wand. He lowers it when he sees the cause of the noise.
"Sorry," Ginny says. "I couldn't sleep, and I saw you out here." Harry nods and sits back down on the log. "Can I sit?" Ginny asks, not knowing how Harry will answer.
Harry nods again and slides over, not taking his eyes from the black waters of the pond.
The couple sits in a strained silence until Ginny reaches forward and takes Harry's hand.
Harry looks at her and her cheeks are wet with tears.
"You're not okay, are you?" she asks, pushing his sloppy hair out of his eyes.
Harry feels something inside his chest break open. He opens his mouth to respond but cannot. The grief and tears he has been holding in for weeks, years really, finally find their way to the surface. Harry's body is wracked with sobs as waves of exhaustion and grief crash into him. He clings to Ginny like rock in a violent storm.
Ginny rocks Harry's sobbing form, stroking his hair. "It's okay, it's okay. I have you and I'm not letting go."