A/N: This just came to me. I was sitting around, theorizing about the HP books, and a story for Ginny popped up, practically written completely. It's only one chap, so enjoy!
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Harry had always treated her different than her family or Hermione or her friends. He always smiled at her when she entered a room, saying 'Hey, Ginny' in his soft voice. That voice, that smile, washed over her like warm water, clean and bubbly, like a young child's favorite bath. She was sure that smile, that voice, was saved for her, only her. She could easily imagine what it would be like, held in his arms, his soft, loving lips on her's.
She could imagine his loving face, turned toward her, sitting between her palms. And she could imagine squeezing. Squeezing his face hard with her hands, till those perfect viens burst, till blood flowed. His thin face, covered in blood, pale, innocent flesh beneath the red.
She could imagine holding him close...so close. So close his lungs collapsed, so close his heroic heart stopped. His lips and cheeks and face would turn black. Then those beautiful emerald eyes clouding, going blank, like glass on a chilled winter morning.
She could inagine holding those calloused hands in her pale ones. Those hands, browned and hardened from hard work and play. Those hands, leading to the paper-like flesh of his masculine, smooth wrists. She would push her long, sharp nails into him, watch blood sprout from new cuts.
She would do all of these, one at a time, first cutting his wrists, then his head, then she would hold him.
Because, the truth was, he had no special smile, no loving, soft voice. He would never hold her close, never claim her as his own. And the one time she thought he did, he threw her away the moment danger was near, the moment he was called for a heroic duty. The moment Cho waved her good looks at him, the moment her eyes became pitiful, pouting faucets.
And she hated him for it. She would always hate him. She had loved him, given her heart to him. And he crushed it. She handed him something so fragile, and he simply dropped it. It had broken, and in it's absence, Ginny learned to hate. She was fierce, hungry for vengence. She wanted her heart back. And since she couldn't have it, she would take his. She would steal away his. It was probably small enough to fit in the void her hate had left for it, the void that had been larger before the hate came.
Ginny would have to take care of Cho first, though.
Oh, the things she imagined...
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A/N: Wouldn't you hate to be Cho? Anyway, I figure this should probably start in the CoS and end in GoF. Does that fit to you? R&R!
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Harry had always treated her different than her family or Hermione or her friends. He always smiled at her when she entered a room, saying 'Hey, Ginny' in his soft voice. That voice, that smile, washed over her like warm water, clean and bubbly, like a young child's favorite bath. She was sure that smile, that voice, was saved for her, only her. She could easily imagine what it would be like, held in his arms, his soft, loving lips on her's.
She could imagine his loving face, turned toward her, sitting between her palms. And she could imagine squeezing. Squeezing his face hard with her hands, till those perfect viens burst, till blood flowed. His thin face, covered in blood, pale, innocent flesh beneath the red.
She could imagine holding him close...so close. So close his lungs collapsed, so close his heroic heart stopped. His lips and cheeks and face would turn black. Then those beautiful emerald eyes clouding, going blank, like glass on a chilled winter morning.
She could inagine holding those calloused hands in her pale ones. Those hands, browned and hardened from hard work and play. Those hands, leading to the paper-like flesh of his masculine, smooth wrists. She would push her long, sharp nails into him, watch blood sprout from new cuts.
She would do all of these, one at a time, first cutting his wrists, then his head, then she would hold him.
Because, the truth was, he had no special smile, no loving, soft voice. He would never hold her close, never claim her as his own. And the one time she thought he did, he threw her away the moment danger was near, the moment he was called for a heroic duty. The moment Cho waved her good looks at him, the moment her eyes became pitiful, pouting faucets.
And she hated him for it. She would always hate him. She had loved him, given her heart to him. And he crushed it. She handed him something so fragile, and he simply dropped it. It had broken, and in it's absence, Ginny learned to hate. She was fierce, hungry for vengence. She wanted her heart back. And since she couldn't have it, she would take his. She would steal away his. It was probably small enough to fit in the void her hate had left for it, the void that had been larger before the hate came.
Ginny would have to take care of Cho first, though.
Oh, the things she imagined...
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A/N: Wouldn't you hate to be Cho? Anyway, I figure this should probably start in the CoS and end in GoF. Does that fit to you? R&R!