Shadow
A/N: This is a little bit of inspiration. I was going to write this like the Chamber of Secrets thing when she finds out about the diary. But instead this is what came through. This is my first try at angst and depression stuff, so be sure to leave plenty of reviews!
Ginny Weasley sat by the window of the girls' dormitory, shivering with a silent fear. Shadows and darkness played across her features, hiding her expression from the emptiness of the world around her. She knew she had done something bad; what with her hands covered with the dark stain people call blood. Images played across her mind, forcing her to remember what she tried so hard to forget. Her guilty conscience was succeeding in tormenting the redhead to the point of suicide. Indeed, a pink razor lay at her side, untouched but constantly reminding her of its presence.
I… I can't live this life anymore…
But you have to, another voice countered, you must!
For what purpose
For Harry.
A harsh unbelieving laugh ripped itself from the girl's throat and echoed itself throughout the dormitory.
In his world, I don't exist.
You're there… don't worry, he knows you're there.
Yeah, as Ron's kid sister. I live in his shadow here. I can never be just Ginny.
Not anymore. Go back, he'll always be there.
Can't… look what I did… I did evil…
The blood on Ginny's hands had long been washed away, but the memory of it's horrific taint imprinted itself into her brain. She stared at them, still refusing to believe they were the things that helped her complete her deed.
The door opened – and Hermione walked in, obviously knackered but as soon as she spied Ginny she was ready to help a friend.
"What's wrong?"
"I did bad Hermione."
She was slightly taken aback by the simplicity and abruptness of Ginny's answer and decided to press further. "Do you want to talk?"
Ginny looked up at Hermione with her large blue eyes and freckle-spotted face and instantly gave her the impression of a house-elf about to iron its ears because it had broken a rule.
"I don't think so."
"Okay."
They sat like that, Hermione with a comforting arm around Ginny, whose sadness rolled out of her in waves; dousing the room with its mood. The feeling was so incredibly tangible that it even chilled Hermione's skin, and the unconsciously shivered.
"Ready to talk?"
"No. Yes. Maybe… Yes."
"Whatever you did, it can't really be that bad…"
Once the words were out of Hermione's mouth, she instantly regretted them for Ginny didn't answer right away, and when she did, it was a cryptic scoffing, "Really?"
By now it was apparent to Hermione that she wasn't getting through to Ginny and she whipped her head around to face her, fully prepared to give her the lecture of a lifetime… when she glanced into her eyes. They were dull, dark, -- empty.
In fact, they mimicked the listless quality of the dark shadows dancing wildly along the floor and walls. They echoed the emptiness of death.
"Ginny, what did you do?!"
Ginny opened her mouth to speak, fresh tears furrowing channels into her pale cheeks, when none other than Harry himself burst through the door.
Breathless, Harry looked towards Hermione.
"Hermione… it's Ron."
"What do you mean?" she demanded, "What happened?"
"He – He's dead. They just found him with bl-" Here Ron's best friend broke down and couldn't go any further.
Ginny visibly gulped, staring at her hands and praying Hermione would be so blinded by her immediate sadness that she wouldn't make the connection. But though Hermione could do little else but cry, that didn't make her an idiot.
"Ginny!" she screamed in anguish, "How could you?!" and fled.
Harry, still grieving and confused, looked at them both and went after her.
And what of Ginny, the one reaped in sadness?
Ginny Weasley sat by the window of the girls' dormitory, shivering with a silent fear. Shadows and darkness played across her features, hiding her expression from the emptiness of the world around her.