The Bent Boy
by ValorOrgulloso
Susceptible
And the grass it was a ticking
And the sun was on the rise
I never felt so wicked
As when I willed our love to die
And I was your silver lining
As the story goes
I was your silver lining
But now I'm gold
Silver Lining Rilo Kiley
My feet were cold. That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. I wiggled my toes to warm them, but it was useless – they were hanging out in the open for the cool air to attack. I opened my eyes blearily and unburied my head from something firm and warm. It was morning; the sun was shining brightly in my eyes, so I squinted.
I didn't have to have the night before rush back to me as I knew exactly where I was. I knew exactly what happened. I knew Harry hadn't lied despite my protests and unwillingness to believe him. I knew it wasn't a nightmare.
I gently rolled out of the small hospital bed, making sure not to rustle its other companion. I dressed lethargically, not allowing emotions or rational thought inside; I was afraid that if I let any small amount in I would break to pieces.
I finished and caught my reflection in the window. I couldn't see much with the sun shining behind it, but what I could was a mess of hair. I ignored it, not even trying to fix it. I turned away from the window.
He was so peaceful and quiet. His chest rose and fell gently without a hint of the illness destroying him. I approached him slowly and kneeled down beside his sleeping figure. He was lying on his back, his head turned towards me. I moved my head an inch away from his face, and his cool breath rushed back onto my face. My breath caught as his flew right through me.
I pushed my arm under the covers. I gripped his hand, and it wasn't as cold as usual. I took some reassurance in this as I stared at his sleeping face. There was a gentle curve to his nose that I had never really taken note of before. His eyelashes were long and ebony as they met the slim curve of his sallow cheek. His lips weren't too thin or too thick. They were just right and a pale pink. He had freckles so lightly dotting his cheeks that I could barely see them. I reached out with my other hand and brushed my knuckles along his face. I began to lightly trace the contours, memorizing every curve. My finger outlined his chin and began its path towards his lips. I touched them. Chapped and memorable.
It was too much, and I buried my head in the soft mattress, pulling my hands away from his face and his hand to grip my tangled hair roughly.
I tried to control the rapid rise and fall of my chest; I tried to stop the tears from coming.
"Ginny?"
I kneeled up quickly, wiping my eyes hastily. I tried my best to smile.
"Yeah, Harry?"
"Are you crying?"
"No, not at all."
Harry reached out with a hand and stroked my nest-like hair. He was staring at me, but I couldn't bring myself to look back. I was a complete and total mess – inside and out.
"I'm going to go on a walk for a bit," I finally said.
"Alright," Harry conceded.
I leaned over and, as tenderly as I could convey, kissed his forehead gently. I pulled back and reached up a hand and rubbed his hair down on the top of his head.
"I'll be back soon," I promised.
"Take your time," Harry insisted weakly. "Don't worry about me."
I shook my head at his careless words and insisted, "I'll be back soon."
"Okay." I took one last look at his kind, tired face before standing up and leaving the Hospital Wing.
The hallways were crowded, and I had a brief memory block, confused, before I remembered that classes were still going on; it was the last day before break started. I vaguely wondered why Madam Pomfrey hadn't woken me up, but I couldn't bring myself to care much.
I stared at my feet as I passed by my classmates. I knew how I must look: puffy eyes, crazy hair, pale face, rumpled clothes. I wasn't in the mood to deal with their curious stares; I felt as if I could snap at any slight glance or touch or voice aimed towards me.
I didn't want to cry: I wanted the tears to go away and the ache in my chest to leave or at least subside so it wasn't so painful. One night of agony was more than enough.
I turned down an empty corridor, glad to find a place to be alone. I slid down the stone wall, ignoring the painful scrape it left on my back. I unseeingly stared at the painting on the opposite wall. My legs were spread out in front of me limply as I duly noted the white brush strokes of the water fall and the sharp edge of a rock. Harry won't be able to see this in a few months. He won't have the chance to experience everything I do. He doesn't have enough time.
Thoughts like this continued to flow through my mind, and I was unable to stop them. I just let them through, letting each one pierce me like a knife. Classes must have finally become in session because no one interrupted me. There were no windows in the corridor, only the dull glow of torches lining the wall.
I sat there a long time, observing the beautiful landscape and thinking so much about Harry.
"Ginny?" A quiet voice called my name out in the silence, and I sharply turned my head to look at my brother.
I sighed, looked away, and rubbed my eyes tiredly. "Hello, Ron," I said dully and unemotionally.
My nervous, confused-looking brother sat down beside me. He didn't say anything, but I wasn't sure if I expected him to. Our last conversation had been months ago. We sat there for a few minutes before I finally decided to say something.
"My friend is sick," I told him flatly. I felt as if I needed to tell someone the awful secret I had discovered. I needed support. Ron could give it to me – Ron was loyal. Ron would listen. I had no one else to turn to, and, almost perfectly, Ron showed up as if to show that someone could help me.
I looked at my older brother to see him trying to think of something to say. His mouth was trying to form around words.
"He has a Muggle disease called Cancer," I expanded.
"Is he going to be okay?" Ron asked hesitantly.
I sighed and looked away, shaking my head. "No," I said, angry to hear there were tears in my voice. "He's dying." A few tears escaped, and I wiped them away hastily.
"I – d'you –" I looked up to see Ron stuttering over words he couldn't manage. "I could – I mean –" Finally, Ron just gave up and took me by surprise. He hugged me. I stiffened for a second, and he seemed stiff too, but after a moment we both relaxed. It wasn't often I hugged my brother – in fact, I hadn't hugged him in years.
It was only a few moments long, and we both pulled away quickly.
"Thanks, Ron," I muttered thankfully. He nodded once, looking a little embarrassed.
"Can I… I mean… could I ask… who… it is?" Ron questioned cautiously.
"It's Harry," I whispered, wiping at my eyes again. Why wouldn't I stop crying?
"The boy you're…?" The question hung out quietly, and I nodded.
"And it's just…" I paused, trying to gather myself up once more. "It's just so unfair! He never did anything wrong! He'd never hurt anyone! He's always wonderful, and he…" I let out a sob that I couldn't suppress. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. "It's unfair to me," I moaned.
"Sometimes, Gin…" Ron said gently. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people."
I looked at my youngest brother and gave him a watery grimace. "I haven't been nice to you, have I?" I asked rhetorically. Ron looked away and at his intertwined fingers in his lap.
He shrugged. "Everyone makes mistakes," he muttered.
"I guess you're right," I admitted. "Just know that I'm better than I was."
Ron just nodded. He looked at me curiously. "Is it because of Harry?" he asked.
I nodded, letting a small smile linger on my face. "Yeah… he makes me want to be more… I don't know. I want to please him. He makes me happy. I'm better because of him."
Ron reached up and laid a hand on my shoulder. He looked me straight in the eyes as he told me something I'd always remember. "Just be lucky you ever knew someone as strong as Harry Potter."
---
My brother left a little while after that when the bell rang signaling lunch and the end of his free period, and I did too. I was standing outside of the Hospital Wing doors, contemplating whether or not I was collected enough to go through them.
Just when I thought I was ready to stomach seeing Harry again, my throat closed up. I leaned towards a nearby window, throwing it open and gasping for breath in the frigid air.
"Fuck," I moaned miserably, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. I was shaking, but it wasn't from the cold.
"Ginny, what –"
My heart and I leapt as I turned around to come face to face with – "Carter."
"Are you crying?" He looked worried as he came closer.
"N – no! What are you doing over here, anyways?" I asked defensively, refusing to wipe my eyes or sniff to completely give myself away.
"It's just… I heard your friend was sick, and –"
"Who'd you hear that from?" I asked harshly. There was a large part of me that felt guilty for being short and rude with Carter, but I was distraught and couldn't help it.
"A – a Ravenclaw boy," Carter stuttered hastily. "His friend hexed him, so he had to go reverse the spell's effects this morning in the Hospital Wing. He told me he saw Potter in there – sick. I thought I might find you here, and I guess I was right." He spoke quickly as if to get the words out as fast as possible.
I eyed the nervous boy in front of me suspiciously. "Why would you want to find me? You haven't associated yourself with me in months."
Carter sighed and shifted, staring at his feet forlornly. He glanced up in my direction swiftly before returning his gaze back to the floor. "You were right, Ginny. I was selfish just like Vanessa, Nate, and Colin. And I've been a jerk to you – I didn't talk to you just because I didn't want to ruin what little status I had." He cautiously walked up to me. I stood still and stared at him. He laid a hand on my shoulder. "I – I've changed, Gin. I don't care about –" He stopped, gathering his thoughts. "I haven't talked to the three of them in weeks, Gin."
I sighed, taking Carter and his downtrodden but slightly hopeful expression in for one long moment, before flinging my arms around his waist in a big hug. Finally, I allowed myself to sniff into his chest. He returned the hug, and when we pulled away from each other, he was smiling.
"Do you want to meet Harry?" I asked hopefully. He grinned and nodded.
And, as I looked at my newly reclaimed friend, I decided that my cloud – my very dark, stormy cloud – had a small but meaningful silver lining.
A/N: Equation appeased! Thanks, guys (J'adore vous!) :) New equation for a new goal! reviews = (20)(chapters)
And, yeah, I realize I haven't updated in 2 weeks. Sorry.
Take the poll in my profile – I'll share the results within the next few chapters because I already have 45ish votes. Please review (20 is my goal… only you can make it happen)!
