Fairytales and Happy Endings
By Artichokie
The sun peaks from behind clouds like a pulsating drumbeat. Heavy grey clouds speckle the light blue sky as freckles dot my cheeks. The air is moist; it will rain soon, but I do not care.
I am lying in the grass facing the heavens. However, my mind is not focused on the breeze blowing above me, nor does it care to acknowledge the bee that has just landed on a flower near my ear. I hear it, but my fear of insects is not alarmed. The buzzing adds more visual to my thoughts.
His face is most vivid in my mind. His hair, black as the bottom of the giant lake next to the Hogwarts castle, moves with every footfall he makes. His green, green eyes sparkle as they land upon my face. I am speaking to him, I can feel my jaw move in my memory, but the words aren't clear. I do not need the words to comprehend the scene.
I am staring at a sixteen-year-old version of Harry Potter, the most famous child wizard, if not one of the most famous, period. We are walking down a corridor; people push passed us on both sides. Many times I am jostled, but I never break my stride.
We turn a corner, and, surprisingly, the hallway is clear. The thought that this wasn't the way to the Gryffindor Tower passes through my mind, just like it had then. A strange excitement begins to fill my lungs; I find it hard to compress a smile.
I have ceased speaking; we are walking in silence. The buzz of voices begins to recede in the background before it withers away completely. He grabs my hand as he turns his head to face me. A shy, but goofy, smile spreads across his lips.
"Follow me," he says in hushed tones. A tingle ripples down my spine as my excitement rises. I know where we are heading for; I realize why we are taking this detour.
When was the last time we had any time together? I ask myself as I let him lead me. I fail to answer my own question; I truly do not know. Ever since we had started dating, someone had been around. We need time alone. I manage to suppress a sigh of relief just before it escapes my lips.
As we walk down the corridor, I realize I would follow Harry anywhere. My childhood fantasy has come true; I am dating the famous Harry Potter, my bother's best friend, my friend. If only my younger self could see me now.
We turn another corner and come to an abrupt halt. Checking in front and behind us, we discover the surrounding area to be quite deserted. My heart swells with excitement as I turn to face him.
"Look at us, sneaking around," I say with a small laugh. He smiles as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. I drape my arms around his neck and rest my cheek against his chest.
A feeling of utter contentment settles over me. It is okay that we're not kissing or talking; just being held in his arms is enough, is what my body craved. Kissing is nice, but not at this moment. No, right now is utterly perfect.
Finally letting go of that sigh, I snuggle closer to him. His arms tighten as he clasps his hands together at the base of my spine. He rests his chin on the top of my head. I can feel his warm breath on my scalp.
"I love you, Harry," I say without thinking. Instantly, my body stiffens; I've never allowed myself to say those words to any of my past boyfriends. I would have been lying if I had. So, why this moment? Why this boy?
Later, after the incident, I did come to realize that I had spoken the truth. I really do love Harry Potter. I have always loved him, perhaps; even before our meeting. At the moment I had spoken them, however, that is not what is crossing my mind.
My mind is full of anxiety. It comes back to haunt me as the daydream continues. I know he wasn't expecting the words; his body has grown as stiff as a wooden board. I can feel his jaw trying to work against my scalp; his throat moves as he swallows multiple times.
I have ruined the moment, I think as I close my eyes. Half of me is impatient to see his reaction while the rest of me wants to flee. But, I am no coward. To run would be an act of cowardice. I stay where I am, his arms tight around me and his uncertain swallows echoing in my head.
Finally, he sighs. The sound bounces off of the stone walls. Harry's exhale didn't sound too promising for a happy ending to this day. No, instead, it was full of reluctant acceptance. Why did I let those words escape?
"Ginny, I . . ." he starts. When he doesn't continue, I pull my face away from his chest and glance at his face. It is pale; the color in his cheeks has evaporated. His masculine lips are pulled into a tight line. He does not look at all happy, and my heart squeezes with despair.
"Harry, you don't have to say anything if you—" I try to say, but Harry's interjection stops me.
"I love you, too, Ginny." My eyes lock onto his, searching for sincerity. They're blank; he is hiding his thoughts from me. Or is he? I question. I have never been good at reading eyes, so why do I try? Despite a pull of suspicion, I give into a burst of hope.
"I do, Ginny," he says earnestly, a little more force behind these words than the last. I must still look doubtful, so I smile up at him.
Placing my hands on the sides of his face, I say, "I believe you, Harry." I stand on my toes and lean forward. At the moment our lips touch, a feeling of bliss fills every part of my body. I did not think life could ever be any better. Just for that moment, I was able to forget the darkness that follows my every move.
If only moments can last forever, I think cynically.
As the daydream fades, thoughts fill my head. A single raindrop falls upon my cheek. I feel it, I know it is there, but I refuse to face reality. I know my thoughts are going to turn dark as they always do, and I should probably resurface. If I do that, I'd be leaving darkness to face more darkness. The change would be bittersweet.
My mind wanders back inside my head.
Why would he say the words if he didn't mean them? The thought has plagued me since our breakup. I know he did it for noble reasons; he said as much on that frigid day.
In my mind's eye, I can see that white tomb marking the ending to the life of an important and powerful figure to many generations. Dumbledore's grave is one I'll never forget. Half of me is focused on the sorrow of such a loss; the other can only see the one man I'll ever love turning his back to me. My eyes squeeze against the rush of tears.
His explanation was fair; I probably would have said the same thing were I in his shoes. But I am not, and I cannot accept it as willingly as I put on. Façades are easy to come by; actual pain is something one cannot hide from their own mind.
The night following the funeral, I wanted to do nothing more than cry. And I did. I cried myself into a fitful slumber, and it wasn't until dawn that I finally succumbed to it. I did not have to explain my actions seeing as everyone else in my dormitory were joining in on the act.
Everyday from that momentous day, I have felt an ebbing of sadness line my consciousness. I do not regret dating the famous Harry Potter; I'll never regret it. I only wish we could have ended up differently. Maybe I could have said something to change his mind. Maybe, but I sincerely doubt it.
It doesn't change the way I feel. Part of me is ashamed that I gave in so willingly to my old desires. When the moment arrived, I took it for everything it had. And I will forever cherish those moments. I want to scream out that I still love the boy, and yet, I want to cower and let it all disappear.
I want to heal before I'm forced to do anything, but I know that is not possible. I want to remain in this solitude, my thoughts my only company. I wish I could just dwell on what has happened, take a few more minutes, hours, even days to savor the precious moments I experienced. But I know that's not possible. None of it is possible.
I open my eyes and stare blindly up at the grey sky. The clouds have built up since I was last aware of them. Rain now plummets onto my rosy cheeks, blending with the silent tears that I have shed. A raindrop falls directly into my vulnerable eye, causing me to wince.
Sitting up, I brush damp curls of hair from my face and cross my legs in front of me. With my arms folded across my chest, I shake my head in resolute awareness. Happy endings are for the fairytales. I was just fool enough to believe in them briefly.
-Fin-
Please R/R.