i will wait for you
the wind is negligible. the trees are not rustling like they ought to - it seems like the world is holding its breath, waiting for the war which is to come.
but not for her. not now.
her war is not the much-vaunted clash of steel on steel, nor the dazzling collision of spells from which results in a painless death.
this war will be drawn out, and she will leave her opponent destroyed.
"Ginny-"
there he is. with his stunning green eyes and stupid self-sacrificing soul. she knows, though she's still in denial of the fact, what he's going to do.
"I don't want to hear it."
"Ginny, please. You know what happens when people get too close to- to me! The diary!"
that diary. that vicious diary which still gives her nightmares half a decade later. all those dreams are similar: Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.
Harry.
Tom.
she's been trying to suppress the memory of the chamber ever since she processed what happened in its high-ceilinged space. but though she pretended to everyone that she was unconscious during the showdown, she wasn't.
she was there. she was looking down at her still body. she was looking down at tom. she was looking down at her twelve-year-old saviour, harry bleeding potter - the chosen one for merlin's sake! she saw him kill the basilisk. she saw him almost die - and if not for the fact that a phoenix had cried on him she would have lost hope.
she would have stopped fighting the nigh-irresistible force that was (is) tom riddle.
she would have died if not for him.
(she would have died and she doesn't even blink at the thought.)
when the diary died, she practically apparated back into her near-corpse and pretended ignorance - pretended the beautiful boy's eyes were the first thing she had seen in hours.
though she tried not to admit it to herself, that was the day she fell in love with him. and sure, she did try to like dean like more than a friend - but no. she could not.
but right now his eyes are beseeching. she would crumble before them, if it was two years ago and she was not her own person. but she is, now. she knows what she wants and what she will not stand from anyone, not even the boy, it seems, destined-to-break-her-heart.
"No. No, Harry, I will not break up with you. I know what you're doing and I will not let you do it, understand? I know you've got a 'saving people thing', Circe knows you've almost killed yourself more than once. Break up with me, Potter, and I will be next in line to kill you - when, it seems, You-Know-Who succeeds. If I live that long."
she's being morbid but she finds she doesn't even care.
"That's exactly it, Ginny! I can't let him succeed. And I love you. If you were to die it would hurt and it would be that much easier for Voldemort to kill me - kill my friends - kill my- your family. Then everything would be lost. I'm going with Ron and Hermione and you cannot stop me. The only reason I'm letting them come is because they're forcing me to take them! But if you stop calling yourself my girlfriend and you would be that much less of a target! Do you know how much I want to stay? I do! I really do! But I can't and if Voldemort's to conquer the world the least I can do is try to bring him down! Damn you, Ginny!"
her eyes sting with irresistible tears - she heard his slip of the tongue. she will not let him get to her. not again.
(oh, but he is getting to her and there is so little she can do it's a palpable ache in her chest.)
"Fine. Leave. I'll tell everyone we're over. But I'll be waiting for you - and you better come back."
he smiles a sad, wistful smile. almost unwillingly turns around. leaves her alone with the only the lapping of the lakewater and the mournful shrieks of the merpeople for company.
war is coming. and she may not be ready - she may never be ready - but the least she can do is hold out until harry saves them all.