Title: Walk Away

Discription: Song-fic to Franz Ferdinand's song Walk Away. Ginny's thoughts after Harry breaks up with her. Somewhat bitter. One-shot.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Song belongs to Franz Ferdinand and Harry, Voldemort, dementors and Hogwarts belong to J. K. Rowling. Jell-O belongs to the Jell-O company, whoever owns that.

And now…

There was scraping of chairs. The funeral was over. She stayed in her chair, feet planted firmly on the ground. She did not trust her legs; they would feel like Jell-O.

I swapped my innocence for pride

Crushed the end within my stride

He was getting up now, trying to look nonchalant yet grievous at the same time. Somehow it was working. She could not believe that he chose a time like this to break up with her. He was hiding stuff from her. Information about other girls, Voldemort, The Order, himself, or something equally unimportant. She wanted to know but she was not about to beg, it did not matter anymore. She didn't need him anymore. The Chamber had been closed off for years and there were plenty of other people to save.

Said I'm strong now I know that I'm a leaver

I love the sound of you walking away

None of it mattered anymore. She had her own life that she can enjoy without him. Maybe she had waited all those long years in vain. There were plenty of boys around that could love her and not be so bloody noble. Good riddance that he broke it off before she fell any deeper. She relished the picture of his back turned to her, walking away.

Mascara bleeds a blackened tear

And I am cold, yes I'm cold

But not as cold as you are

The tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at his silhouette. It was the end. That would be the last time she would see him. It was like looking at a ghost. She felt empty, so very empty. Like her blood had stopped rushing, like a dementor sucked out her soul. It was how she felt when she was with Tom Riddle, in those last couple months. She hoped he felt the same way, cold. Maybe he could hear his parent's dying moments like there actually was a dementor nearby. It was awful, but true. Maybe he did feel that way and that was what had just made him stop walking.

Why don't you walk away?

No buildings will fall down.

No quake will split the ground.

The sun won't swallow the sky

Statues will not cry.

He was teasing her now. "Go on, walk over to your friends. Be the Golden Trio. What do I care," she muttered, "It doesn't matter anyway." She was a speck, only on his radar from time to time. "It's not the end of the world. He can still save everyone." She would eventually date other guys. She would maybe even marry one. A good bloke who only cared about her and would be there through thick and thin. Life would go on.

I cannot turn to see those eyes

As apologies may rise

He's thinking about coming back. Try to explain that she might die that she is weak, young, and foolish, that he can't let anything happen to her. She did not think she could bear him looking at her with those brilliant emerald eyes. She shifted positions so her back faced him.

I must be strong. Stay an unbeliever

And love the sound of you walking away

No matter what, she couldn't show that it came as a surprise-it didn't, or that she was feeling like someone had taken out all the contents of her stomach-she did not feel like that in the slightest.

Mascara bleeds into my eye

I'm not cold, I am old-at least

As old as you are

She felt defeated. Defeated by him, life, and the world. The one thing she wanted in her life was walking away. She felt prematurely old. Life had played a cruel trick on her, on him, on everyone. They were all too old for their own good. Middle-aged and still in wizarding school. Without him life will be empty and meaningless.

As you walk away

My headstone crumbles down

The Hollywood winds a howl

The Kremlin's falling

Radio 4 is static.

No, there was nothing left to do. The thin walls of her life were collapsing, plunging , tumbling down. The grown was heaving under her feet. The sunny grounds of Hogwarts looked dark and foreign. Nothing was the same.

The stub of stiletto on a silent night

Stalin smiles, Hitler laughs, Churchill claps Mao Tse Tung on the back.

Voldemort has won.