I was tired...bored...and a bit out of it...contain's spoilers, character death, and a slightly happy-ish ending? I dont know...I DUN OWN HARRY POTTER!
Dance of a Memory
Nothing could hold her still, her nerves racing faster than a humming birds beating wings. Her body, gliding gracefully across the still waters. She couldn't believe what she was doing; it was like a fantasy come true. She was dancing on water for god's sake. Her bare toes lightly scathing the surface of the still lake. Disturbing its murky depths as tiny ripples were shot through the cold waters. It felt as if her soul was helping her in the melodious act.
And none of this would have ever happened if it hadn't been for her love. Although it shouldn't have happened the way it did, fate seemed to have a nasty scene of humor, playing a foul trick on her.
Her body shuddered slightly, but kept the rhythmic pace as she glided across the waters.
It had been a few months after Harry, Hermione, and her brother Ron had left to fight off the Dark Lord. She had been left alone, although she had her friends from school, it just seemed empty without the golden trio. A piece of her seemed to have left, and she had fallen very ill. She spent most of her time in the hospital wing. Her skin becoming sickly pale and her bright red hair adding to it. She looked like a fragile porcelain doll, if not handled properly, would break into a thousand tiny pieces impossible to put back together.
The moon cast an eerie glow across the great lake, reflecting its pale light upon her delicate figure. The ripples falling into pace of her movements.
She was sure it hadn't been a mere coincidence that the tattered book had fallen back into her possession. The deep holes on either side of the binding, and marring a few of the delicate pages. It should have been destroyed and decaying in the depths of the chamber. Tom Marvalo Riddle's diary had fallen into her arms once again. The first night terror over took her compelling her to bury the horrid thing, wishing to never lay eyes upon it again. The next day she had fallen under another one of her sick spells and was sent to Madam Pomfry's for the rest of the evening.
The thick book, clenched between her thin arms, magic almost seeping into the girl giving her the strength she so desired. She so deserved.
Reluctantly she had retrieved the book, repeatedly telling herself that there was nothing to worry about. Riddles spell had been broken, cast away. It was nothing but a mere journal now. After finding the confidence and will to allow herself to write in it, she started marking down the days. It was like a habit. She would feel a distain nagging in the back of her mind if she didn't write in it, even if it was just a word or two she would feel satisfied.
Pale hands clutching her frail form, gliding through the crisp air, a non existent breath escaping his lips.
The words would bleed heavily into the thick parchment, but unlike last time it remained blank. Nothing would respond. It felt as if a weight had been thrown from her shoulders. Her health was returning and she seemed more lively with every wakening moment. Daily, she would write about her feelings, her deepest emotions. Nobody could ever see what she kept bottled up so deep within herself. But unknown to the young red head, some one was indeed watching. Keeping specific details of the girls actions, and reasons behind what she did, locked up within his memory.
Her head lolled back and her body arched, fiery red locks flipping through the air as her body twirled.
It was a month afterward the she had fallen extremely ill once again. It was at the time when Harry and company had come back to check up on things. Making definite progress with their mission they told her excitedly of their many adventures. This was all done while she was bed ridden. Things seemed to get worse when Harry had talked to her alone, she had suddenly felt a deep remorse rise within her when he said he still had feelings towards her. Her stomach seemed to knot up and her voice caught in her throat. She hadn't been able to respond. The next day they had left her once again.
Thin transparent fingers laced with hers as the two forms seemed to float through the air, their movements synchronized perfectly, melting with one another. Their hearts beating as one.
It had been a week after the trio's hasty departure; she had locked herself away from the world. She would attend her classes as normal, but she would skip eating and spend all of her free time behind the curtains of her four-poster bed, writing in the black journal. That was when he had finally written back. The shock she resived had sent her strait back to the hospital wing. She had been inclined to stay there for a few days before returning to her normal schedule. It had taken some time for her to retrieve the courage to start writing in the diary once again. But this time the answers were more frequent. The first couple of days she would write a few words, get a small reply, then drop it. Memory's of her first year plagued her dreams, and the worst part of it, was that they weren't bad! They were of the nice times she had during the time. At first she couldn't bear the thought of him being back, but it seemed as if it wasn't that big of a deal anymore.
A sweet melody broke the stillness of the night as they soared through the wind. Defying all that was right in the eyes of humanity.
They had started conversing back and forth once again. But this time it seemed to be different. He had seemed more interested in what she had to say in the duration of her time writing to him. Her would give her little hints of advice, helping her along with life. Her grades improved, as did her health (once again). Things seemed to have been going fairly smoothly. Then tragedy struck, causing her life to fall to pieces. Her father had died by the hand of a death eater.
Her soft breathe hitching momentarily as she continued sailing through the ages in past memory. Hands flicking up as her body paused, catching her breath rhythmically, then her body whipping around sharply yet gracefully. Almost in a mourning way.
She wrote to him about it, but nothing he said could help the downfall of her health. Her skin clung to her frame in a sickly way. She was kept from her classes due to her depression, she had unlimited time to spill herself to the boy, crying whole heartedly as she did so. He hadn't a clue of what to do to help her prevent the inevitable fate of her condition. Over the time they had bonded, a stronger feeling arose between the girl and the memory. Although bound to a small book, he was extremely powerful still. So he granted her a wish that could only be passed on through him.
It hadn't taken much to sneak her out of the large castle, seeing that Dumbledoor no longer ran the school, security had diminished greatly. Although, even if he had been alive it wouldn't have had any effect. His ghostly form silently leading the weak girl onto the grounds, the night air chilly but bearable. He had led her to the edge of the great lake, pausing for a moment. The form he had taken wasn't liable to last long from the amount of energy put into it. After the momentary silence, his light husky voice echoed through the air. "What is it that you wish." He had asked softly, his hazel eyes falling on the deathly still girl standing next to him. The answer he had gotten had broken his cold demeanor that had been fading away considerably over the past months. With a smile glided over the surface, ripples spraying out as if the wind had passed over. He turned to her holding out his hand, beckoning her to follow.
She was hesitant. He couldn't have been able to make her wish come true, but after a moment of thought she took a step forward. Once she had reached the soft lapping water's of the lake, she looked up at him, searching for any sign of doubt. And in finding none, her bare foot stepped onto the surface of the water. Lightly placing her second onto the cool surface as well. She smiled up at the man, tears almost coming to her eyes.
And they danced.
The next day, the family of Weasely's mourned the death of their youngest. Ginny Weasley was found at the edge of the great lake, face down. Her body was buried, and family and friends wept sorrowfully. Yet over the deep waters two lovers danced with joy, mere memories gliding with all the grace in the world. The transparent slivers of souls intertwining, finally able to be with each other. Body's discarded, and all the time in the world, to dance.
Fin
Rawr...review...rate...whatever. I'ma gonna go to bed now...
