A/N: :p... well... this chapter was written some MONTHS ago, but then my computer crashed (*damn PC*) and... well you know what happens when your computer crashes, right? ...And I just thought, "Might as well give up on the whole damn thing". But one day in the car, while I was thinking about Bk5 and how sick I am of waiting (Summer 2002, People! :D), I decided that I felt like doing some more work on it, so... Without further ado, I give you...
Disc:Wait, wait! Can't forget the disclaimer! Yeah...you know the deal. Oh, and David Usher isn't mine, but someday he will be and Serial Joe will be my mistress... ;)
Ps: I know the words down there aren't exactly right but it's not my fault 'cos I don't have the words. And I know that the name Ginny being in there is very far-fetched, but hey! -It's a possibility!
ginny's on the bathroom floor
she don't know why
shakin underneath the sink
can't feel a thing
shed love to live her life
shes too afraid of
failure
with all the voices in her head
now what was that i thought i heard you scream...
-David Usher, Alone in the Universe
_______________________________________
we're all infected now.
She had said that she wouldn't do it... or had she? She couldn't remember. But it didn't matter. Her flesh succumbed to the dull knife, ripping slowly.
Like a hot knife through butter.
The thought made her smile. She felt the blood trickle down among the hairs on her arm, tickling her numb skin. She winced a bit at the pain.
The blood was warm and fresh. She could almost smell it; the smell of the dead; but it was nice. Relieving. And lowering her lips to it, she tasted the iron, and she tasted the magic that flowed with it through her veins. It tasted like-
Bang! Bang!
"Hello? Is someone in there? Look, just unlock the door! I've gotta go! Hello?"
"What is it?" Another voice.
"The door's locked again!"
There was a pause. Then the second girl spoke, her voice much lower.
"... She must have locked herself in there again. There's no chance; don't bother. You'll never get her out."
"Vain little witch."
The two girls' footsteps faded away. Ginny was glad they had gone, but... it was then that she realized how alone she was; hidden in the corner of the girls' washrooms, huddled under the sink and into the shadows. But this only made her more desperate.
I am alone. I am alone. I am alone.
She turned these words over in her mind as she whispered them, rocking back and forth on her heels. She had to find the meaning. Alone... alone... Alone: without the presence or help of others. Alone: Ginny. Curled up in a little ball against the wall of the loo. This.
"Ginny?"
She dropped the knife. It was the same voice that had bade her not to-
"What are you doing?"
She scrambled for her knife and fumbled hopelessly with it as she tried to sheath it in its leather pouch. She finally managed, and she shoved it into her pocket, hiding it from him. She reached for a towel to stop the bleeding and hid it in her sleeve.
"I know you're in there. I heard two girls talking downstairs-"
As if for the first time, Ginny felt the real pain in her wrist that she had caused. It made her whole body ache. He began to pound on the door, rattling the doorknob urgently.
"Ginny let me in."
She didn't move.
"Ginny I want to see what you're doing. Let me in."
Her eyes flitted from her arm to the door. She moved her legs out from underneath her.
"Ginny..."
She began to crawl towards the door.
Bang.
He had gotten it open, and now he was standing there, his wand in his hand. He looked at her for a minute; on all fours halfway across the room, her face deathly white ...and then she watched as his eyes scanned the bathroom. Ginny moved her leg and it brushed against the heavy knife in her pocket. He was looking for it. She kept her face as unreadable as she could. His eyes came back to her.
"Were you..."
She looked at him. He knew that she knew what he was about to say. So he didn't bother finishing.
She sat back on her feet, suddenly angry. Why didn't he trust her?
"Don't you trust me, Harry?"
His face was expressionless.
"Do you think that I would go back on my on my word with you? After I said that I wouldn't? Ever?"
Still his face did not change.
"What were you doing in here?" His voice was calm. He stared steadily at her, his eyes boring into hers; he was trying to read them.
She blanched.
"...Girl stuff."
"... Oh." He blushed.
"Well... uh... there are still two girls downstairs in desperate need of the bathroom right now too, so..."
"Right." She stood up.
He held the door open and gestured with one hand to the hallway outside, smiling. She got the hint. As she passed through the doorway, she stopped and turned to him, opening her mouth. -He got to it first.
"Just wanted to see if you were okay."
That was a good enough answer for her. She swept off out of the bathroom and made her way down the hall.
***
He watched her leave until she was out of sight. Then he turned to face the door again. Inside on the floor he saw the glint of the silver knife where it had fallen out of its leather sheath. It had escaped her pocket when she had stood up to leave. He had seen it fall, but she hadn't noticed it.
Quickly, he scooped it up and hid it in his cloak. He masked the disappointment in his face with a content-seeming smile as he crossed the busy common-room. The trip to his dorm seemed long, and made him weary. Finally, at the end of his journey, he tucked it underneath his socks in his trunk, receiving a very funny look from Ron.
***
"It's gone. ...But... but it was right here, in my pocket, when I took of my robes..." Her hoarse whisper was directed at no-one. She was rummaging through her clothes, strewing them about the room; frantically searching for that which was no-where near her. A strangled cry escaped her lips and she let out a dry sob.
"Harry."
Disc:Wait, wait! Can't forget the disclaimer! Yeah...you know the deal. Oh, and David Usher isn't mine, but someday he will be and Serial Joe will be my mistress... ;)
Ps: I know the words down there aren't exactly right but it's not my fault 'cos I don't have the words. And I know that the name Ginny being in there is very far-fetched, but hey! -It's a possibility!
ginny's on the bathroom floor
she don't know why
shakin underneath the sink
can't feel a thing
shed love to live her life
shes too afraid of
failure
with all the voices in her head
now what was that i thought i heard you scream...
-David Usher, Alone in the Universe
_______________________________________
we're all infected now.
She had said that she wouldn't do it... or had she? She couldn't remember. But it didn't matter. Her flesh succumbed to the dull knife, ripping slowly.
Like a hot knife through butter.
The thought made her smile. She felt the blood trickle down among the hairs on her arm, tickling her numb skin. She winced a bit at the pain.
The blood was warm and fresh. She could almost smell it; the smell of the dead; but it was nice. Relieving. And lowering her lips to it, she tasted the iron, and she tasted the magic that flowed with it through her veins. It tasted like-
Bang! Bang!
"Hello? Is someone in there? Look, just unlock the door! I've gotta go! Hello?"
"What is it?" Another voice.
"The door's locked again!"
There was a pause. Then the second girl spoke, her voice much lower.
"... She must have locked herself in there again. There's no chance; don't bother. You'll never get her out."
"Vain little witch."
The two girls' footsteps faded away. Ginny was glad they had gone, but... it was then that she realized how alone she was; hidden in the corner of the girls' washrooms, huddled under the sink and into the shadows. But this only made her more desperate.
I am alone. I am alone. I am alone.
She turned these words over in her mind as she whispered them, rocking back and forth on her heels. She had to find the meaning. Alone... alone... Alone: without the presence or help of others. Alone: Ginny. Curled up in a little ball against the wall of the loo. This.
"Ginny?"
She dropped the knife. It was the same voice that had bade her not to-
"What are you doing?"
She scrambled for her knife and fumbled hopelessly with it as she tried to sheath it in its leather pouch. She finally managed, and she shoved it into her pocket, hiding it from him. She reached for a towel to stop the bleeding and hid it in her sleeve.
"I know you're in there. I heard two girls talking downstairs-"
As if for the first time, Ginny felt the real pain in her wrist that she had caused. It made her whole body ache. He began to pound on the door, rattling the doorknob urgently.
"Ginny let me in."
She didn't move.
"Ginny I want to see what you're doing. Let me in."
Her eyes flitted from her arm to the door. She moved her legs out from underneath her.
"Ginny..."
She began to crawl towards the door.
Bang.
He had gotten it open, and now he was standing there, his wand in his hand. He looked at her for a minute; on all fours halfway across the room, her face deathly white ...and then she watched as his eyes scanned the bathroom. Ginny moved her leg and it brushed against the heavy knife in her pocket. He was looking for it. She kept her face as unreadable as she could. His eyes came back to her.
"Were you..."
She looked at him. He knew that she knew what he was about to say. So he didn't bother finishing.
She sat back on her feet, suddenly angry. Why didn't he trust her?
"Don't you trust me, Harry?"
His face was expressionless.
"Do you think that I would go back on my on my word with you? After I said that I wouldn't? Ever?"
Still his face did not change.
"What were you doing in here?" His voice was calm. He stared steadily at her, his eyes boring into hers; he was trying to read them.
She blanched.
"...Girl stuff."
"... Oh." He blushed.
"Well... uh... there are still two girls downstairs in desperate need of the bathroom right now too, so..."
"Right." She stood up.
He held the door open and gestured with one hand to the hallway outside, smiling. She got the hint. As she passed through the doorway, she stopped and turned to him, opening her mouth. -He got to it first.
"Just wanted to see if you were okay."
That was a good enough answer for her. She swept off out of the bathroom and made her way down the hall.
***
He watched her leave until she was out of sight. Then he turned to face the door again. Inside on the floor he saw the glint of the silver knife where it had fallen out of its leather sheath. It had escaped her pocket when she had stood up to leave. He had seen it fall, but she hadn't noticed it.
Quickly, he scooped it up and hid it in his cloak. He masked the disappointment in his face with a content-seeming smile as he crossed the busy common-room. The trip to his dorm seemed long, and made him weary. Finally, at the end of his journey, he tucked it underneath his socks in his trunk, receiving a very funny look from Ron.
***
"It's gone. ...But... but it was right here, in my pocket, when I took of my robes..." Her hoarse whisper was directed at no-one. She was rummaging through her clothes, strewing them about the room; frantically searching for that which was no-where near her. A strangled cry escaped her lips and she let out a dry sob.
"Harry."