Author Notes : The second version, now beta-read and edited! Enjoy!
Disclaimer : I still do not own Harry Potter and co, you should know that by now! Also, Mimi pointed out that the phrase "How's it going to be when you don't know me anymore?" is used in a Third Eye Blind song. I can honestly tell you that I have never even heard of that band, and certainly not their song, but it wouldn't surprise me if I read it as a quote somewhere and that it somehow got stuck in my head. In any case it had been circling around in there for a few months before I finally wrote this…
So, don't own that phrase but I'm not sure if they can completely own it either… But now it's disclaimed at least!
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When You Don't Know Me
Is it hard understanding I'm incomplete?
A life that's so demanding, I get so weak.
Famous Last Words – My Chemical Romance
Leaves rustle in the soft breeze that blows past before continuing on its way across the green fields stretching as far as the horizon. The air is still warm from the hot summer's day that has just passed and not a single cloud conceals the sky – the stars and the moon shine through. Everything is quiet, calm; it is a night from a perfect dream.
In a window, a boy sits, alone, staring out over the beautiful world before him, but his gaze is focused on something far away, something that no one else can see, and it brings dark shadows to his gentle eyes. Everything else in the small house is still as he brings one of his legs up onto the windowsill and hugs his knee to his chest. His dark hair hangs in loose threads over his face, half-covering his emerald eyes, and his soft lips are pressed together in a thin, grim line. A pair of black-rimmed glasses lie beside him and he gently picks them up, wiping them clean on his faded black t-shirt – so baggy that it can barely stay on his skinny frame - before putting them on. A sigh escapes his lips as he stares out over the world again and a finger slowly traces a pattern on the window before his hand falls down into his lap again.
A low creak announces someone's arrival but the boy does not turn around to acknowledge this new presence; only a small smile shows that he has even noticed. The girl stands hesitantly in the doorway, her white nightgown draped over her small body and her flaming red hair falling in soft curls down her back. Her brown eyes stare searchingly at the boy in the window, but soon determination shines clear in them and she breathes in deeply before slowly walking towards him.
As if hearing her approach, the boy lifts his head a little, eyes still staring out of the window. "It's a beautiful night," he says quietly, as the girl stops beside him and shifts a little from foot to foot before leaning against the wall in pretence of casualness. "So calm."
"Yeah," she answers, staring outside, trying to see what it is he is seeing. "Couldn't sleep?" she asks, knowing the answer perfectly well, but unable to think of anything better to say.
The boy smiles softly. "Yeah, you could say that," he says, a sort of dark humour colouring his words. The girl looks at him searchingly again, and something very much like compassion flickers in her eyes and softens her expression.
They let the silence take over, each losing themselves in their own thoughts of what lies ahead - what the future has in store for them and everyone else around them. Dark times are coming, have already come, and calm summer nights like this one may very well be few and far between in the coming years.
"What's it going to be like when you don't know me anymore?"
The words are said so casually, so carelessly, as if he were just asking for the time, and the girl stares, shocked and confused, at the boy beside her. "What are you talking about?" she asks, a hand reaching out to rest gently on his knee.
The boy tears his eyes away from the world outside and looks down at the small hand. "The war is coming, Ginny," he says, picking up her hand, capturing it between both of his own. "We all know that. We've also seen what happened to those who had to live through the last one; what it did to them." He looks up and meets her eyes, tears glistening in both green and brown. "War changes people, Ginny. It tears them apart and when they try to put themselves back together, there are always pieces missing." His rough hands caress hers and a small tear escapes his glittering eye. "They aren't the people they used to be, and they never will be again."
Slowly, she reaches out to him with her free hand and wipes the tear away, her thumb stroking his cheek gently as he leans into the touch, his eyes closing. His breaths are shallow and ragged, but as the girl continues to stroke his cheek, he regains control of himself and they gradually even out. He takes a deep breath before opening his emerald eyes again and focusing on the girl before him, one of his hands reaching up and covering hers as they stare at each other.
"Harry," the girl whispers, her tear-filled eyes shining brightly, but the boy stops her with a gentle finger on her red lips.
"Hush," he says softly, his finger never straying from her lips. "Don't say it." He gives her one last, long look before pulling away and jumping down from the window. "I should go to bed," he whispers, turning away and heading for the door.
"Harry!" the girl calls after him desperately, confused by his sudden departure, and he stops in his tracks, hands buried deep inside his jeans pockets. "Please, can't we talk?" she asks, a single tear escaping her eye and rolling silently down her pale cheek.
The boy does not turn around, only bows his head and gives a heavy sigh. "I'm. . . I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking. "But I can't do this. Please, just. . . Not now, alright? I'm sorry." And with that he walks away, leaving the girl alone in the darkened room.