Disclaimer: Things I own: one pint-sized attack bird, a duct tape covered notebook that has served various purposes including, but not limited to, ground cover, baseball bat, and umbrella, and a slightly chewed ball-point pen. Things I don not own, but really would like to: a Fender Strat, the Oscar Meyer Weiner song (see previous disclaimer), and, of course, Harry Potter,
Author's Notes: Many thanks to Sarah, reviewer numero uno! AND!!! To my beta reader, Leslie, AKA Punkin; gigantic thanks for all the support! Shameless self-advertising now: if you like what you see here, head over to fiction press.com and check out my original stories, Where Broken Dreams Go and Color Blind. WBDG is a work-in-progress (currently taking a nice long vacation--but hey, if I get a few new reviews, who knows what might happen?), and Color Blind is a stand-alone short story that may or may not continue at a later date. Ok, now I'm done with that… story time!
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Chapter 2
Late that night, almost morning, Ginny woke to a sound. At least, she thought that was what had woken her. Conscious, she heard nothing, but she was certain that she'd heard something. After a few minutes of careful listening passed without a repeat, she decided to go back to sleep. She turned over onto her stomach, and then again a few seconds later to her side. She repeated the procedure half a dozen times before sighing exasperatedly and throwing the covers off. She stormed over to the window, where she laid her forehead against the cool glass. As she looked over the snow-covered ground, moonlit and glowing, she couldn't help but smile.
The smile turned into a bitter frown, however, when she remembered all the people that would never see that sight again. Pavarti Patil, her sister Padma--they'd been her friends, though both were a year older than she. Dean Thomas, her second boyfriend, even if it hadn't lasted the summer. Moody, crazy as he was, had been one of the first to follow Sirius. Mundugus Fletcher soon joined them. Tonks had been struck blind after a Death Eater's Killing Curse misfired, leaving her sightless and depressed. So many others that she didn't even know had died in that final battle, countless more in the random attacks before it.
Even Ron had come close, so close to dying. The story she'd told Harry was just that; a story. The three of them, Ron, Hermione, and herself, had been seriously injured as they followed their friend into battle. Hermione was so covered in hex marks by the time they'd gotten her back to the castle she looked like a child's coloring book. The Cruciatus Curse had broken both of Ginny's legs, and she still felt a twinge sometimes as she walked. Ron, however, was the worst off, in her opinion. Sometime during the battle he had been poisoned, but had adamantly refused to return to the castle, insisting that his place was with Harry. When he passed out, someone had dragged him back to Hogwarts, but they were almost too late. Madame Pomfrey had taken one look at him and sent him directly to St. Mungo's. It had been touch-and-go for a while, and Ginny had never been more frightened in her life. She couldn't imagine what her mum must've felt, or Hermione.
Sheets rustled behind her, and she whirled to find Harry standing up. "You're supposed to be petrified," she told him, wiping her eyes and hoping he hadn't noticed her tears.
"I was. She let me out of it a little while ago; said it would help the healing process if I could move around."
"Oh." Ginny turned back to the window, and again leaned against it. Harry stood beside her.
"Look at the moon," he remarked, drawing her attention back to it. A delicate crescent moon graced the sky, stars twinkling brightly all around it.
"It's beautiful." She sniffed, wiping her eyes again with the sleeve of her nightdress.
"Ginny, you're crying!" he said, voice full of concern. He turned to her, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his state of undress.
"Am not," she denied, gazing firmly straight ahead. "You're wearing boxers."
He looked down at himself. "So I am. Gin, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. You're only wearing boxers."
"I hadn't noticed. Don't lie to me, Gin; I can see it in your eyes."
"See what, Harry?" she demanded, finally rounding on him, angry. "That I can't sleep because I heard something a few minutes ago and I can't get that little niggling doubt out of my head that a Death Eater somehow found his way in here and is about to kill us both? That I'm looking out at this beautiful scene and all I see is a battleground? That I'm looking at you and seeing the same haunted look I saw on Lupin, Sirius, Dumbledore, even me when I looked in the mirror this morning?"
Instead of answering, Harry pulled her into a tight hug, and she buried her face into the nape of his neck. "What do I do, Harry?" she asked, her voice muffled. "So many people died that night… Pavarti…. She was dying when I found her. And I couldn't--" a sob broke through her tirade "--I couldn't do anything for her except hold her and try to… try to comfort her, and she told me Padma was already dead so I didn't have to worry about either of them, they were going to be okay, and--"
"Shh, Ginny, it's okay," Harry muttered as he held her shaking frame. "They're all in a better place now, they're… they're in heaven, and you don't need to worry about them." Fresh sobs ripped through her, and Harry realized, belatedly, that he had parroted Pavarti's words to Ginny. "I'm sorry, Gin, I didn't mean to…."
"Shut up, Harry," she ordered through tears. "It's not your fault… it's all Voldemort and his lackeys and I hope they all rot in Hell for the pain they've caused, all this…. Merlin, Harry, Ron died twice on the operating table!" His mouth fell open in shock, but she continued. "That damned poison… they still don't know… there might be side effects."
"You told me--"
"I know, Harry," she sobbed, "and I knew I was lying to you but Madame Pomfrey said you couldn't handle that kind of shock yet and I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry, I didn't want to--"
He made a shushing sound. "It's alright, I'm not mad." He looked up at the ceiling, pleading. Merlin knew he knew how she felt; after all, wasn't he doing the same thing? One hand buried itself in her soft hair and held her even closer to him.
"And Charlie's unconscious in St. Mungo's," Ginny continued, not even hearing him. "Mum's there, and so's Dad, but he's-he's…." Fresh tears ran down his bare chest, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. Instead, he leaned his cheek against her forehead and made what he hoped were comforting circles on her back with his hand. "And I can't look out there and see anything beautiful 'cause everything's all wrong, and I just… I want it all to go away!" she finished forcefully.
Harry sighed shakily, holding back tears of his own. "This… this is all my fault, I should've never let you all get involved."
Ginny thought about getting angry with him for blaming himself, but laughed instead. Through the crying, it sounded like a skipping Muggle LP. "You're such a stupid prat, Harry," she told him.
He nodded. "So I've been told." Against his will, a single teardrop traced its way down his nose and into her hair. He let her continue to cry against him, wishing he could make it better. After a while, her sobs abated, though tears still fell and she sniffed from time to time. "Come on, let's get you to bed." Without further warning, he put one arm behind her knees and lifted her up, just like her father used to.
"Harry, you're hurt--"
Just like her to yell at me when she hasn't even finished crying yet. "Quiet, Gin. See, you're already down." Carefully, he set her down and arranged the covers over her. As he turned away, she caught his arm.
"Harry, please… I-… I don't…."
He looked at her, confused, but realized what she meant when she didn't let go his arm. "Wait one second," he told her, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants Ron had brought down from his trunk. He pulled them on and knotted the drawstring, thinking, Who knows? Maybe the dreams won't come tonight. Maybe for once I'll get a decent night's sleep.
An hour later as Madame Pomfrey made her rounds, she found one bed unoccupied and another doubly so, but didn't say a word. In fact, she smiled.
The next morning, Harry awoke with Ginny's head on his chest, their arms around each other and their legs entwined. While he had no aversion to it--in fact, he found he quite liked waking up like that--he doubted Ron would see it as the innocent situation it was. Carefully, he disentangled himself from their mutual embrace, smiling as she frowned in her sleep and curled up in the warm spot he'd so recently vacated. He fumbled for his glasses so he could see her clearly, and almost found himself thinking things he ought to have been ashamed of. The sound of a throat being cleared loudly startled him out of even beginning to think them, however.
"I assume, Harry, that there is some explanation for your rather, ah, unconventional sleeping arrangements?"
Harry spun around to find the bright blue eyes of Headmaster Dumbledore fixed in a stern gaze on him. "Professor! I, er… I mean, we just… that is… um…." He gave up. "Don't tell Ron?" he pleaded.
Dumbledore laughed outright. "Do you know, that's the second time today I've heard those words? Granted, the first time, it was 'Don't tell Harry'."
Harry's mouth fell open in surprise, but then he, too, laughed. "Who said that? Ron?"
"Now, now, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, wagging a finger. "That would be telling. And if I told, I would be obliged to tell Ron, in turn."
"No, no, that's okay," Harry said quickly. His relationship with Professor Dumbledore had definitely changed over the years, from near idolization in his first few years, to outright hate in his fifth, to nonexistent in his sixth, to mutually respective and friendly in the past few months. He and Ginny were among the few people who hadn't treated him as if he was made of glass after his… incident the year before. Ron and Lupin were the only other ones who had not. Ginny had shouted at him, Ron had trusted him, and Lupin… well, Harry had a suspicion Lupin understood him. Dumbledore had talked to him about it, and then put it completely out of his mind. Suddenly, the unfamiliar glint of silver caught his eye. "Er, Professor," he began, holding up his hand. "When can I tell them?"
Instantly, Dumbledore turned serious. "Well, I suppose the sooner you tell them, the better. If you wish, you may use my office after the ceremony this afternoon."
"Ceremony?" No one had mentioned anything about a ceremony.
The aging headmaster nodded solemnly. "A memorial for all the victims."
"Memorial? But… it's not over."
Dumbledore sighed, looking, for a moment, as old as he was. "I know, Harry. However, the rest of the world does not. We must keep up appearances."
"I don't like this, Professor; I don't like it at all. I really think--" Ginny rolled over and opened her eyes.
"G'mor'ing," she yawned, her voice still muzzy from sleep.
"'Morning, Gin," Harry replied, giving Dumbledore a look that clearly said, "We'll finish this later."
"Miss Weasley!" Dumbledore greeted cheerily. "How did you sleep?"
Immediately, Ginny sat up, wide eyes seeking out Harry. Oh, no, I didn't really… sweatpants. I did… oh, I'll never live it down. She blinked hard, and grimaced when the image didn't change. "Fine," she answered, feeling her face heat up considerably.
"I'm glad to hear that," Dumbledore told her. Maybe he doesn't know…. Dumbledore's expression changed. "Well, I must be off. But I think I would like to see the two of you after the ceremony this afternoon." Inwardly, Ginny groaned. He does…. She buried her face in her pillow.
"No worries, Gin," Harry said as the headmaster made his way to the door. "He doesn't care."
"How do you know?" she retorted through the pillow. "He'll probably expel us… or worse, write to Mum."
"Just trust me, Gin. It's not what you think it's going to be."
Ginny shot him a doubtful look. "Fine. I'm going back to the tower to get dressed. See you at breakfast." She threw on a robe and hurried to the door, glancing up and down the hallway to make sure no one was there.
When the door swung firmly shut behind her, Harry collapsed on his bed. Letting out a frustrated cry, he put his palms to his forehead. How was he supposed to tell them that Voldemort now inhabited the tiny silver ring he wore on his finger? He stared up at the white ceiling and waited for the answers to rain down.
Ginny hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, or rather, what would be Gryffindor Tower again once the construction wizards finished rebuilding the entire south wall and most of the west. Right now, it was more like Gryffindor Sunroom. She hoped she could make it back before Kelly and Rachel, two of her dorm mates and her best friends, woke up and found her bed empty. Unfortunately, Fate was against her, as usual.
Honestly, she thought as she spotted her friends sitting in a corner, obviously waiting for her, and looking quite pleased. Can't I ever get a break? Deciding she couldn't put off the inevitable, she made her way over to them. They didn't waste a second.
"Oh, look who it is, Rachel!" Kelly began. "It's little miss I'm-going-to-stay-out-all-night-and-not-tell-my-friends-where-I'm-going!"
"Honestly, Gin, you ought've at least told me. I could've told you all the really good places to go."
"You're not supposed to encourage her, Rach. One of us has got to stay innocent," Kelly admonished.
"I can't believe you two!" Ginny cried, incredulous. "You think I was out with some guy?!"
"Alright, then," Rachel said. "Where were you?"
"In the Hospital Wing," she answered self-righteously.
"Why, you sick?" Kelly asked.
"No. Harry woke up."
Rachel smirked. "And that required you to be there all night?"
"I thought you said you weren't with a guy," added Kelly.
"Honestly, you two! It's Harry, for Merlin's sake!"
"Yes, it's Harry," Rachel agreed. "Harry with the gorgeous green eyes."
"Harry with the tousled black hair," Kelly added.
"Harry with the troubled hero look."
"Harry with the Quidditch muscles."
"The mysterious past."
"That voice."
"Those lips."
"Those hands."
Ginny blushed furiously, and shook her head. Sometimes those two acted so much like the twins she was tempted to tell Mum on them, although none of the three was related. "Stop it, you two! It's just Harry!"
"Oho, I do believe we've struck a nerve, Kel!"
"I think we have, Rach. Gin's getting defensive!"
"Am not!" The other two laughed. "Alright, I walked into that one."
"Certainly did," Kelly quipped. "So really, Gin, why were you in the Hospital Wing all night?"
Why? Good question. "He's my friend. He needed m--oh, no, that was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?" At the first mention of "need," both Kelly and Rachel had perked up. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
"Needed you, eh?" Rachel asked, nudging Ginny with her elbow.
"Is that what they're calling it these days? Really, all these code names are getting ridiculous. Nick and I just call it sex," Kelly stated, shrugging.
"You stop! We just talked, really," Ginny insisted, wishing profusely that the Weasley blush hadn't affected all the Weasleys.
"Uh huh. Then why," Rachel began, and Ginny's stomach sank, "did my little sister tell me this morning that when she went to get a Pepper-Up Potion from Madame Pomfrey earlier, you and Harry were asleep, in the same bed, with your arms wrapped around each other?"
She hadn't known there was a color redder than tomato, but Ginny certainly reached it as Rachel finished. "We were talking, and fell asleep, and it really isn't as tawdry as you're making it sound--"
"Then how come you were both smiling?"
There was a color even redder than the last, and a small part of Ginny's mind wondered if she wasn't going closer to purple by that point. It was clear her friends were going to have a good laugh at her expense for a while. Why not have one of her own? "Fine. If you must know--"
"We must, we must!" they chorused.
"--Harry and I were having wild, desperate, animalistic sex in the Hospital W--"
"WHAT?!" Ron's disbelieving shout sounded from behind her.
Oh, bugger. "Now Ron," she began, turning around, "I don't know what you heard, but none of it's true, just my good friends--" she shot them a nasty look "--having a laugh at my expense."
"WHAT?!"
"I hate you both right now, you do know that," she told the giggling Rachel and Kelly. "Now fix him."
Instead of responding, they continued with their hysterics. She shook her head and headed up towards the girls' dormitory.
"GINNY WEASLEY YOU GET BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN!!!" her older brother shouted at her.
"Talk to them, they made it all up!" she yelled over her shoulder. As quickly as humanly possible, she retreated up the dormitory stairs, thankful that the Founders had had the foresight to keep raging older brothers out of the girls' dorm.
Hours later, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione stood, along with the rest of the school and much of the surrounding population, where Honeydukes, Zonko's, and a good portion of the rest of Hogsmeade had once stood. Dumbledore and a number of Ministry officials, including Bill and Fleur Weasley, sat on a raised platform around which everyone had crowded. Dumbledore stood, and instantly, the crowd silenced.
"I would first like to welcome you all here, and express my sincerest condolences to any and all of you who lost family or friends to this war. There are far, far too many of you. I would also like…." He cleared his throat. "Well, 'like' is really not the case. In fact, I very much would not like to do what I am about to. But he asked to speak, and who am I to refuse? I therefore introduce you to someone… someone who by all reason should not have had the chance to become what he is right now. Ladies and--" he choked, but continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, Dean Thomas."
A whisper went up from the crowd as word to spread to those who didn't already know who he was. Quiet crying could be heard here and there throughout the student population. Hesitantly, the ghostly form of Dean stepped on the stage. "Hi," he began uncertainly. He searched he crowd for a familiar face, and found many. "Seamus, mate, why're you--… what're you doing that for? I'm--I'm not…" his fake smile faltered. "I mean, I'm not g--… I mean… I… oh, bugger it. I didn't mean to!" All traces of a smile were gone, and it looked as if he was about to start crying. Sobs could be heard in the area Harry knew Seamus was, and he couldn't blame him in the least. If that had been Ron up there, he didn't know what he'd do. Hermione and Ginny both held back tears, and Ron stared fixedly at the ground.
"Seamus, I--just stop, alright! I've got to say some things." He took a breath. "For those of you who haven't heard, I was… well, I guess I was the first… casualty… in the final battle. Voldemort… see, he had me killed, 'cause I was Muggle-born." A look of confusion passed over his face. "I was… was. Merlin… I just realized how weird it is… to refer to myself in the past tense…. I can't do this!" He looked pleadingly at Dumbledore, who gave him a reassuring, if watery, smile. Dean waited another moment, wondering if he really had to continue, but decided he did.
"I, ah… I stuck around, 'cause there's some things really need to be said. First off, I want to thank you all, on behalf of everyone who… went before me… and after me. I mean, it really means a lot to me that you're all here, and I know it's not just for me but for them too… and… well, thanks. I mean, everyone else is what makes life worth living, right?" Dean cleared his throat and swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry, I'm no good at this stuff… Seamus, man, stop cr-- stop crying! You're making me--"
He stopped again. After taking a few seconds to collect himself, he continued. "Look. You've got to stop crying, all of you. It's… it's no good concentrating on the bad stuff. You've got to see what you have. You've got--gotta live life to the fullest, right? Carpe diem and all that crap? But it's not…. It's not crap. It's about as true as you get. I mean, there's noth… nothing I wouldn't give to be out there with you right now, crying for all the other people that died. But I'm not. I'm… I'm here. And I'm telling you, and God knows I know from experience--" he laughed desperately "--one minute everything's fine and the next second you're dead. And I'm not saying that you shouldn't be sorry, shouldn't be sad, 'cause for God's sake you're human…. I'm saying you gotta… you gotta remember us, you gotta remember us well, but--but let us go, when the time comes. Treasure the memories, but… don't drown in them. Don't be bitter, don't be mad. God, the last thing we want is for you to be mad. What we want… what we want is for you to be happy, for you to live the lives you're given, so when you join us you've got plenty of stories to tell. Okay?
"So Seamus… go find Lavender and the rest, get roaring drunk, tear up the bar and pretend you don't remember it in the morning. Drink one for me, mate. But… only one."
He cleared his throat a final time. "Before I go, I just want to say… one more thing. It's been good… real good. Everything. And, ah… and I'll see you all in a while. But not for a good long time, alright? You hear me, mate?" Somewhere in the crowd, Seamus nodded. "Not for a long time." With that, Dean waved sadly, and a bright light emanated from his chest. It grew brighter and brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat. When the light faded, Dean was gone, and there wasn't a dry eye to be found.
Ginny tore her eyes from where they'd been fastened on Neville's coattails, and looked up at Ron. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, and the sobs she'd been holding in since Dean stood up escaped. They felt two more pairs of arms encircling them, and welcomed them into the embrace. The four best friends clung to each other for support, each offering and receiving comfort from the others.
The day dawned overcast and cold, not uncommon for mid-winter. The weather failed to dampen the spirits of the third-years and up, however; it was a Hogsmeade weekend, the first since before Christmas break. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry met in the Common Room as usual, and headed out.
Lunchtime found the foursome around a table at the Three Broomsticks, sipping contentedly on Butterbeers, enjoying their freedom. A bird--hawk, maybe?--screeched in the distance. No one remarked on it, if they even heard. Harry caught Ginny's eyes and looked pointedly at the other two, who were in the middle of another row over studying for the N.E.W.T.s.
Muffled shouting could be heard outside, but the village was full of energetic youths. "May… keen… theater… lay… mean… eater… they… Dean… Death Eater! DEATH EATERS!! THEY KILLED DEAN!!! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE SOMEONE HELP!!!"
Instantly, the four were on their feet, already headed towards the door. It slammed open, revealing chaos in the streets. Half the town was heading towards the screaming, the other half away, towards Hogwarts and safety.
Harry forced himself back to the present, and found himself staring into Ron's clear blue eyes. "All right, mate?" Ron asked, concern edging his voice.
"Sure. Fine. You?"
"Yeah." For a moment, it looked like Ron was about to say more, but hesitated.
"Look, Ron--"
"Harry--"
Both stopped, waiting for the other to go on. Finally, Harry took the initiative. "Look. When you get back to the castle, I've got to talk to you about something. All of you," he amended, looking at the girls. "Meet me in Dumbledore's office. I'm going back now."
"We'll come," Hermione said. "You can tell us on the way."
"That's alright," Harry refused, shaking his head. "You should stay. I've got to do some thinking."
"Harry--"
"No, Hermione. Please, just give me a few minutes," he begged.
When it looked like she might protest more, Ron laid a hand on her shoulder. Harry shot him a thankful look. "Just a bit. I promise." He turned away and started making his way back to the castle.
The remaining three exchanged looks. Hermione worried, Ron sympathized, and Ginny wondered. Ron wasn't about to let him get away with it, though. "Ginny, go with him."
"Why me?" she asked, surprised. She had actually expected him to try to keep them away from each other, since the little misunderstanding that morning.
"Just go, Gin."
She nodded, and followed. Hermione gave Ron a look. "What're you doing?" she asked.
"He can't say 'no' to her. He listens to her." Hermione gaped at him. "What? Haven't you seen it? They've got a totally different relationship than anyone else."
"Well, yes," she spluttered, "I just didn't think…."
"Didn't think I'd be alright with it?" Hermione could only nod, embarrassed. "This morning was a little different. And anyway… dying does weird things to you."
"Ron, I--"
"No worries, 'Mione. Two weeks ago, I'd've been insulted. Now, the little things don't bother me."
"You scare me sometimes, Ron."
"I scare me too, 'Mione."
Ten steps from the edge of the crowd, Harry felt a delicate hand slipping into his own. He didn't have to look over to know it was Ginny. "I need to think," he announced.
"I'm not saying anything," she replied.
"I haven't been entirely truthful with you."
"Not yet, Harry."
He reflected on that. "Thank you." They continued to walk in silence for a while. "I don't know what to do."
"We'll figure it out."
"…" I love you.
"We will, you know. We always do."
"You don't even know the situation yet."
"Don't have to. It'll work out."
He shook his head. "I don't have that optimism."
"Harry, look at me," she ordered, stopping. He stopped, but stared obstinately at the area above her left shoulder. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, guided his eyes to hers. "Listen. Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as what you've already been through. You're strong, Harry, stronger than any other man I know. Merlin, you'll outlive the cockroaches."
"What?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Didn't think I knew that, did you? Oh, the things I've learned from my… my father."
"Ginny, what's wrong with your father?" He reached up and grasped the hand she had forgotten on his cheek.
She looked away. "Nothing. It's nothing."
Just out of hearing distance and out of their direct line of vision, Hermione and Ron watched the scene unfold. To an outsider, it looked like a tender moment between a loving couple. Ron and Hermione, however, saw it as it was--a deep friendship born of desperation and mutual experiences, growing into something entirely inexplicable and utterly awe-inspiring.
"Gin, tell me."
"I can't, Harry… I don't even want to think…." She looked abruptly away, reclaimed her hand from his cheek, and rubbed savagely at her eyes with it.
"Ginny--"
"Please. Don't ask me to say it."
He gaped at her. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't--"
"Hey, you great prat, what're you doing to my sister?" Ron called jokingly, as he and Hermione caught up to the younger pair.
"Shut up, Ron," ordered two female voices, one thick, the other bored with long practice.
"Oy, what's this? Two of them after me? C'mon, Harry, give a hand!"
"You forgot to give him a good whack, Hermione. You're slacking," Harry reproached.
"Hey!"
"For that, I ought to hit you both."
Don't anyone remember why we're here….
"That won't do anything, 'Mione. If you really want to make an impression, you've got to give them a good kick."
Both boys blanched at that. "What'd we do to deserve that, I ask!" shouted Ron, giving Ginny a wide-eyed stare.
"What'd he ever do to you?" Harry screamed to the wind.
Nothing, dear boy, nothing, a voice hissed. Just as you did nothing to weaken me all those years ago. He was simply born… as were you. And while there is certainly no justice in any of this… well, I ceased to be a just man many, many years ago.
"You were never a man! You're just a snake, you bastard."
The voice chuckled. Why, thank you. I don't believe I've ever been so complimented in my existence.
"That wasn't a compliment, Tom!" Harry shook with rage, the brilliant silver blade in his fist catching the last yellow rays of the sun.
I know…
"Harry?"
He blinked. "Yeah?"
"You coming?"
"Of course." The four set off back to Hogwarts, pretending nothing was wrong, knowing everything was.
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Eve 6
Girlfriend
You're really gone
Girlfriend
The dryer's on
Amen
And I'm alone
For the first time
(I'm on the wayside)
You left a sock
Girlfriend
Where's the pair?
Broken
Are you aware
That I'm missing you
(I'm on the wayside)
But I can't run to you no more
To catch me when I'm fallin'
I know I have to let you go
But I will not be broken
And keep the slowly fading memories
This place is strange
Empty
You did your time
Time plenty
And the walls are bare
Where your pictures hung
(I'm on the wayside)
But I can't call you up on more
And no we can't just be friends
I know it's time to let you go
But I will not be broken
For every tear, a lesson learned
Every good time golden
But now it's time to let you go
And I will not be broken
But keep the slowly fading memories