Longing for a Dead Man
Ginny sat in the shadows of a secluded corner of the common room. She watched with dark eyes as kids went about their daily business. The fire in the fireplace crackled cheerfully, throwing the room into warmth. All the common room seemed to dance from the flickering of the flames.
Where are you?
She scribbled in her diary, a thin black book. But it wasn't the same book in which Lucius Malfoy had planted neatly into her cauldron in her 1st year. It wasn't the same book that the person she had grown to adore had written back to her, his spidery letters appearing magically on the pages.
She couldn't forget him, she never would.
And she couldn't let go.
Why don't you respond?
She stared blankly, hoping, expectantly at the page of parchment in the book, wishing.
It's been 4 years since I talked to you…
I miss you
A solitary tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the page, making the word 'miss' runny. She dabbed at it in vain, trying to save the word she had written so lovingly, hoping that maybe he would see.
You knew me, you created me… I even thought you loved me for a while…
Another tear fell, her vision was becoming blurry, smearing another word. But she didn't try and wipe it away this time.
How could you Tom? How could you do that to me, and then leave me like that?
Her words on the pages echoed in her mind, reverberating, filling it with the unsaid words; questioning.
Tom, you almost killed me that night, that night I went to meet you in the chamber.
I came to you willingly.
And then look what you did.
Tears were falling freely, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. She could hardly see what she was writing, her hand moved involuntarily across the paper, letting flow the words that she had held in her heart for so long; letting go.
Tom?
Tom why don't you answer?
She stared at the page which she could not make out through the blurriness of her tears in her eyes.
I miss you… please answer me…
She looked out the window she was sitting beside and stared at the moon.
Tom, you remember? I was sitting near the window, in the same spot I am now. And it was almost if you were beside me, because you promised me the moon…
The moon, Tom…
She sniffed, and blinked the tears away, not daring to wipe them. Maybe if she didn't, she could imagine, if only just, his elegant penmanship.
Tom, I wanted to meet you. I had asked to see you for a long time…
And then when I finally did…
You betrayed me, Tom.
How could you?
Tom?
She waited for a response that would never come.
Tom! How could you!
Again she stared expectantly again at the page, almost seeing the spidery letter appearing across the paper, eloquent words. She knew what he would have said…
'Ginny, don't be mad… please forgive me… I only wanted to be alive again.
I miss the air, and the sun, and the breeze. I have no feelings
None.
I want to be able to see your vivid red hair, your soft pale skin, and your blood red lips.
Is that so much to ask from someone I know by heart but not by sight?
Please forgive me…'
Yes, he would say something like that. She wrote that in, trying to copy his handwriting, trying to convince herself that he was still there, caring and listening, even if it were for just a minute.
Yes Tom… I forgive you.
She wrote. But again she was disappointed when he didn't write back. She became angry, and scribbled with hatred:
But you are dead to me, Tom.
You don't answer back.
And you never will again…
Did you care about me, Tom? Did you truly, as I do for you?
Answer me!
But he didn't, he never would.
The page was wet with so wet with tears the ink wouldn't stick to the page properly. She slammed the book shut, all the feelings of hatred she had felt since that day in the chamber written and recorded in it. She hesitated.
She took a gulp of air and exhaled slowly, and she did this a couple more times till she was fully calm again.
Then she threw it savagely into the fire.
And she felt free.