Title: Broken Silence
Author: Katy
Rating: PG13, nothing really happens that is high rated, it is just a bit
dark
Pairing: Ginny/Another girl, I don't think I'll tell you quite yet if you
don't mind.
Warnings: Dark, suicide and femslash. Gosh that is a hell of a lot of
warnings for my first fic.. What ever happened to me being a 'nice girl'?
What would my mother say now!
Disclaimer: If you are under the misapprehension that this could possibly
be mine then you are not only wrong but extremely misguided.
Author's Notes: As I said, this is my first ever finished fic. So I am a
tad nervous.
I need to give my undying thanks to Enismirdal for her wonderful expertise, she managed to correct my grammar, point out when I wasn't making any sense, make me actually write this and then actually let it out to annoy all you lot with! Not only that, but she also kisses me lots (so under- rated darling!) and eats Bailey's ice-cream with me when I feel sad.. So lots and lots of kisses for you, not like I wasn't going to kiss you anyway. but there we go. Can never kiss too much, that's my philosophy. Thanks sweetie
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Nearly
I watched and I saw, I saw that nearly half the Slytherins exchanged their sleep for knowledge, as did Ravenclaws, Griffindors and Hufflepuffs. It was not purely a pastime for the serpents. Though they were though mostly the elder members of my own house. I could see them bartering away their innocence for more pain. Their strength was so much lower than they thought and the price was too high, their souls withered and their power grew, but their power was not what they believed it to be. They studied with diligence that spoke of their incomprehension. Many, I knew, only learnt as instructed. Some had a natural talent or a desire for something that drove them to learn to give them power or revenge, but still I could see that what drove them was not enough.
They paid a price though, and I could see that. The pain was hideous; they caused pain and they felt it, every night. And I watched transfixed. It was so wrong in every way. I wanted to stop them, but I was no brave, reckless lion; I could not, I just watched. As I watched, I learnt, I was not stupid. But I learnt the price too, I could see it. They spent their blood on something that they did not understand. How could they? I almost pitied the stupid fools, they would never be a powerful dark force as they all wished in their warped and shadow filled dreams. They were children who did not even realise what it was that they lost.
I was more scared, though, of one, than of all the others. She was hidden from them all, they could not see her, she could melt into the background until there was just a shimmer in the air. I watched though and I learnt to see; it is hard to hide from the truth. And that was my only weapon against it - that I did not participate, it owned nothing of me.
I could not understand her, she had no one forcing her into this, no aims to rule; I could see that. She was powerful, I could see it on her, radiating and growing, she did not seem to care for the price, she did not mourn the loss of herself: she relished it. I saw her die, slowly. Her life withering, her soul decayed. She had been damaged before I ever saw her I think, but the pain that I saw in her was even greater than that which she inflicted on herself. The dark could do nothing, it seemed, that she did not do already. I knew of course what started this; it was the gossip of the common room for months.
I began, though, to fear for her. She gained new purpose and new strength; I could see her preparing, for something more powerful than I had ever seen before. I saw her resolve strengthen and I was afraid. Then one day I saw her with her shoulders heaving, I thought she must have been running, though what could scare her any more was beyond me. But then what I saw was much worse than that. I heard her sob; a heart wrenching sound, no tears fell. After that, I continued to watch with more interest than before. She looked now, but she seemed to have an aim in mind. Pain flowed off her, I could see it. She stopped properly hiding the scars that covered her pretty arms; I could see them now, if I looked carefully. And looking closely was something I was good at.
One night, she came down dressed in white, rather than school robes. I knew immediately what it was she had come to do. Just because I refused to participate did not mean I was ignorant. Tears flowed then, mine, and for the first time, hers as well. And as they began to gather and spill I saw her as just a girl, not the terrible thing she was becoming or the pain she would inflict willingly on herself. I saw, and it was killing me as well. Her pain and hatred were tangible, but there was fear there too. I had watched; I knew better than she did that she was not of the dark. And as I saw her there I couldn't let her continue. I could no longer just be a watcher; I could not let this happen, this would make me worse than them. I could not sit by any longer. I knew that this was the moment that I had to prove to myself that I had not rejected my life for nothing. She took up her wand and muttered a spell, of words so twisted that it made me shiver just to hear them, then she passed her wand over her left wrist. Her blood flowed crimson over her white clothes, like her hair and I could not let it continue. I couldn't see her do this. So I stepped forward letting myself be seen for the first time in my life and said,
'It doesn't have to be like this'
I need to give my undying thanks to Enismirdal for her wonderful expertise, she managed to correct my grammar, point out when I wasn't making any sense, make me actually write this and then actually let it out to annoy all you lot with! Not only that, but she also kisses me lots (so under- rated darling!) and eats Bailey's ice-cream with me when I feel sad.. So lots and lots of kisses for you, not like I wasn't going to kiss you anyway. but there we go. Can never kiss too much, that's my philosophy. Thanks sweetie
/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/
Nearly
I watched and I saw, I saw that nearly half the Slytherins exchanged their sleep for knowledge, as did Ravenclaws, Griffindors and Hufflepuffs. It was not purely a pastime for the serpents. Though they were though mostly the elder members of my own house. I could see them bartering away their innocence for more pain. Their strength was so much lower than they thought and the price was too high, their souls withered and their power grew, but their power was not what they believed it to be. They studied with diligence that spoke of their incomprehension. Many, I knew, only learnt as instructed. Some had a natural talent or a desire for something that drove them to learn to give them power or revenge, but still I could see that what drove them was not enough.
They paid a price though, and I could see that. The pain was hideous; they caused pain and they felt it, every night. And I watched transfixed. It was so wrong in every way. I wanted to stop them, but I was no brave, reckless lion; I could not, I just watched. As I watched, I learnt, I was not stupid. But I learnt the price too, I could see it. They spent their blood on something that they did not understand. How could they? I almost pitied the stupid fools, they would never be a powerful dark force as they all wished in their warped and shadow filled dreams. They were children who did not even realise what it was that they lost.
I was more scared, though, of one, than of all the others. She was hidden from them all, they could not see her, she could melt into the background until there was just a shimmer in the air. I watched though and I learnt to see; it is hard to hide from the truth. And that was my only weapon against it - that I did not participate, it owned nothing of me.
I could not understand her, she had no one forcing her into this, no aims to rule; I could see that. She was powerful, I could see it on her, radiating and growing, she did not seem to care for the price, she did not mourn the loss of herself: she relished it. I saw her die, slowly. Her life withering, her soul decayed. She had been damaged before I ever saw her I think, but the pain that I saw in her was even greater than that which she inflicted on herself. The dark could do nothing, it seemed, that she did not do already. I knew of course what started this; it was the gossip of the common room for months.
I began, though, to fear for her. She gained new purpose and new strength; I could see her preparing, for something more powerful than I had ever seen before. I saw her resolve strengthen and I was afraid. Then one day I saw her with her shoulders heaving, I thought she must have been running, though what could scare her any more was beyond me. But then what I saw was much worse than that. I heard her sob; a heart wrenching sound, no tears fell. After that, I continued to watch with more interest than before. She looked now, but she seemed to have an aim in mind. Pain flowed off her, I could see it. She stopped properly hiding the scars that covered her pretty arms; I could see them now, if I looked carefully. And looking closely was something I was good at.
One night, she came down dressed in white, rather than school robes. I knew immediately what it was she had come to do. Just because I refused to participate did not mean I was ignorant. Tears flowed then, mine, and for the first time, hers as well. And as they began to gather and spill I saw her as just a girl, not the terrible thing she was becoming or the pain she would inflict willingly on herself. I saw, and it was killing me as well. Her pain and hatred were tangible, but there was fear there too. I had watched; I knew better than she did that she was not of the dark. And as I saw her there I couldn't let her continue. I could no longer just be a watcher; I could not let this happen, this would make me worse than them. I could not sit by any longer. I knew that this was the moment that I had to prove to myself that I had not rejected my life for nothing. She took up her wand and muttered a spell, of words so twisted that it made me shiver just to hear them, then she passed her wand over her left wrist. Her blood flowed crimson over her white clothes, like her hair and I could not let it continue. I couldn't see her do this. So I stepped forward letting myself be seen for the first time in my life and said,
'It doesn't have to be like this'
