Dirt In the Ground
By:
Penny
Trying to be ruthless in the face of beauty
In this matrix
It's plain to see
It's either you or me
Bruise
Pristine
Serene
We were born to lose
-Placebo "Bruise Pristine"
"I'M SORRY," he whispered tiredly, wincing slightly as the cool, moist cloth brushed away the sliver of blood making a slender path down his cheek. Hermione smiled gently, tenderly tucking a string of red hair behind his ear.
"For what, love?" she asked as she removed the cloth and busied herself with unwrapping a bandage. He sighed heavily, shifting so that his face was poised away from her. Away from her kind, cold eyes.
"For barging into your house at eleven o' clock uninvited, bleeding, and unwanted," he explained in a small, pained voice. Hermione laughed.
"George, you're never unwanted. Your hurt, and since I'm your friend I will clean you up. You're always invited here." George offered a weak smile at her words. Always friendly, always tolerant.
He stared mutely at the large, majestic grandfather clock standing proudly in the far corner of the room, feeling a warmth begin to unfold in the floor of his stomach.
Hermione worked silently and swiftly, tending to his wounds and watching his eyes. They were shining unnaturally, as if a light was just beginning to burn out behind them. They were troubled, yet forcefully blank. She knew those eyes. They were her own.
"Do you like cats, George?" she asked, smoothing the white strip of material wrapped around his forehead. He shifted his gaze up to her nose, where he stared at it unblinkingly. His lips trembled, as if the word was hovering inside his mouth, but was being held back.
Hermione watched him, feeling herself shrink and shrivel with irrational nervousness. She felt as if her world depended on his answer... Cats were liked, weren't they? They were nice... weren't they?
...Weren't they?
"Yes," he answered finally, gracing the clock with his intense gaze once again. She let out a long, breathy exhale of breath. It felt as if someone had been standing on her, and finally had shifted their weight, granting her the ability to breathe.
"Why is it so important I like them?" asked George, still staring at her clock as if it were the only thing to look at.
"Who!"
"Coming, Elizabeth!" she shakily stood up and without a backwards glance, sprinted into the kitchen and embraced her familiar.
She held the bird long and hard, nuzzling it's soft feathers with her nose, pushing back the insane giggle bubbling in the back of her throat. Elizabeth stood still and allowed himself to be hugged, hooting comfortingly every so often.
Finally, she sat the bird back onto it's perch, and smiled at him gratefully. She hurriedly made some coffee, pouring the strong liquid into two heavy, chipped mugs. She watched the steam rise phantomly into the air and disperse into oblivion. She twirled her forefinger in the mist, watching as it shaped and danced and then rose again. She giggled.
She carried the mugs back into the living room, expecting to see George Weasley sprawled out on her sofa, just as she had left him, but instead her large brown eyes fell onto her empty couch.
"George?" she asked in a small voice, frantically searching the room for her wounded friend. There he was. Crouching in front of her grandfather clock, gently tracing the flowery designs carved into it's gleaming surface.
She sighed, and set down the mugs onto her ebony coffee table.
Hermione kneeled down next to him, watching his pale finger wind around a detailed rose.
"It used to be Blaise's," she said quietly. George nodded almost inaudibly, eyes drooping shut.
"It's amazing. The clock, I mean," he murmured. She smiled sadly.
"I know. It's... soothing, isn't it? I wonder why," she said. He chuckled darkly. He shifted so that he was facing her, eyes suddenly brimming with earnestness.
"Because you loved him. A small, precious part of him still lingers in this clock," he said, his voice smooth and strong and laced with passion. She stared at him, eyes shining, eyelashes fluttering like mad in an attempt to hold off the inevitable tears.
George suck in a shaky, trembling, happy breath of warm, sticky air, and slowly pulled out something long, skin-colored and rubbery.
Hermione laughed throatily. "A rubber chicken?" she asked incredulously. George smiled.
"It's one of those... precious, spiritual, sentimental things I have left of Fred. I show it to him whenever I visit him in the hospital..." he trailed off, his voice violently braking as his whole frame shuddered with a heavy, silent sob.
Hermione had seen many people cry. Too many. She had heard the anguished screams of mothers and fathers, the sloshing blubbering cries of little children, the kind of crying that makes you throw up.... All of them were horrible, but the worst cry of them all was the one that left your heart dropping to your feet.
George sat there, broken, trembling, body heaving with mute sobs.
The worst kind of crying was where you couldn't even make a sound.
His mouth was twisted in a silent scream, his eyes were tightly screwed shut, but the tears still leaked through, where they flowed down his haunted face like glistening bits of pure diamond.
Hermione could do nothing but offer him his coffee. For she, too, was mutely crying.
The clock reverberated with it's slow, melancholy chime, embracing them like a mother's whispered lullaby.
And then they stopped crying, and smiled down at the rubber chicken and the beautiful clock.
A/n: Haha. See? Short but frequent chapters! Woohoo! I've finally come up with a reasonably stable spine for this story. This chapter was to show you the effect the Golden War had on other peoples. To make it more clear for you, Fred is at St. Mungos. He's with the Longbottoms. You know what I mean? He was driven insane during the War. Maybe I'll delve into it more, maybe I won't, so it's best if you know it right now anyway. Okleedoklee. That's it. Love you guys!
Miss Piratess: You never cease to make me feel so wonderful. Words can't describe my gratitude for your kind, sweet words! They truly motivate me to continue with this thing. You are the most amazing person I know!Thank you so much! Mwah!
SerpentineAngel14: I SO LOVE YOU TOO!! Lol. Thanks, doll!