For Pinky Green's Quotes/Sentences Challenge in the HPFC Forum
( ~* 4 *~ )
( I'm too young to feel this old. )
( *~* )
They hardly say a word to each other anymore, but it doesn't seem to be a problem to them: The grief is too fresh, the wound too raw, and conversation feels so trivial compared to the precious treasure that is life, and never more so than when a life has been ended so abruptly. Sentences full of nonsense and jokes are not enough anymore; they do not disguise the fact that, no matter what anyone tells him, he is now more alone than ever.
That's how all of the school is these days: They keep their heads down, they rarely smile, and they feel horrible.
On most nights, the two of them curl up together on a couch or an armchair, trying to force themselves to be strong, trying to keep composure, because it's all they can do.
Harry hates the silence that death always brings to him – it's so much more than just a loss, like it is for others. For him, it's a gain, a gain on the list of things that he has to carry on his bare shoulders, and now the pile is so high he can barely hold it up anymore. Dumbledore has left him, and it's yet another knife in the heart, and although he doesn't realize it, the knife wounds are bleeding, bleeding so much that he's going to die from the pain of it, the poison of it, if he gets even one more tiny butter knife stabbed into him.
He doesn't have a clue how weak he really is, how his death is just around the corner, inches from his fingertips. All Harry knows is that he is going to be stabbing himself again, because he has to let her go. He has no other choice, and it's going to kill him, slowly and painfully.
"I'm too young to feel this old," he mumbles without thinking, and Ginny nods from her spot burrowed into his side, not at all surprised to hear him speak even though the last thing they said to each other was a soft "Hey" when they greeted each other that morning.
He wishes more than anything else that he can tell her right here and now that he's leaving, that they can't be together, that he loves her too much to let her come with him, and that when he leaves for the summer, it may be one of the last times she ever sees him – he can't. He can't, because that's a job for noble adults to do, and he's still only sixteen, so he tries to enjoy the little time left he has as a teenager with his girlfriend.
He'll grow up for real tomorrow. He'll use the words that mean nothing, but more than anything else he'll use his eyes and try to tell her, most importantly: I love you.
He won't say it aloud. The words just aren't enough anymore.
( *~* )
I like this one a lot – hope you did too. If you didn't, I'm sorry (kinda, sorta, not really), but thanks for reading anyway.
SeE_yOu_SoOn!
- XAPY-TZINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT