Everything that is associated with the characters and world of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. Rowling.
Thank you to my beta readers, ReadingRobyn and No_Hugs_Peach.
Please, if you can, review. I really, really would appreciate it. I can use all of the help in the world.
.:x:.
She sat through five classes with no problem, feeling bored and disconnected throughout the entire day. Even Charms class wasn't engaging enough for her; it had used to be her favorite part of the day. Now she was in History of Magic, listening to awful Professor Binns drone on for an hour. So she resorted to daydreaming, wishing she were in another place. Until she decided to tune in for just a second, and couldn't help herself but to listen.
"So who can tell me the difference between a witch doctor and a healer like those you find at Saint Mungo's?" Professor Binns asked as he floated past a row of drooling students.
Echo Williamson, the Hermione Granger of Ginny's grade, shot her hand into the air and waved it around for emphasis. Professor Binns looked around, his bored to death (no pun intended) expression not faltering as he saw hers was the only hand in the air.
"Yes Miss Wilson."
Echo flipped her honey blonde curls, proud of herself for some reason. The fact that Professor Binns never got her name right never bothered Echo, just as long as she got to answer said question.
"A healer, first and foremost, must get and Exceeds Expectations on the Tranfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and Defense against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. exams. A healer then has a degree from a formal," Echo always had a tendency to emphasize words about education, as if people who continued to learn were better somehow. "Wizardry University and has studied through an internship at a hospital. A healer also does what is self-explanatory, they heal. A witch doctor differs from healer because they've either inherited their position or just earned their status through word of mouth. They don't have a degree and they practice independently. A witch doctor also focuses more on unconventional methods that aren't proven to work, and will even practice on hurting a patient just so they can learn to heal them," Echo said in a matter of fact sort of way.
"Yes, yes. Ten points to…oh…your house," Professor Binns said, scratching at his ghostly chin.
He floated to the blackboard and rested in front of it, his eyes were beginning to close. Ginny always wondered if Professor Binns even liked teaching or if he did it simply because there was nothing better to do as a ghost.
Ginny rolled her eyes, wondering why she even bothered paying attention. She grabbed her tote bag and followed the group of students that were pushing and shoving to get out of the classroom. She chose to linger behind them, waiting until she could get out, but not in an anxious way. She had forgotten to see if there was an assignment, she frankly didn't care.
"I don't believe in witch doctors, I think they're a scam to make children afraid to go in the woods, when they should really be afraid of the Giant Land Rooshers that live in the trees," Luna mulled over as she walked up to Ginny.
She nodded in response, keeping along the path to the Dining Hall where she would be confronted by yet another problem.
"And frankly, I have no desire to write six pages on a witch doctor, when I don't even think they exist," Luna said as angrily as Luna could.
She silently thanked her quirky friend for remembering the assignment she didn't.
"No one wants to write six pages for Professor Binns, I don't even think he reads them. I have a theory that he grades according to how legible your handwriting is," Ginny joked quietly and under her breath.
Luna nodded softly. "I suppose that's what school's about though, doing what you don't like so that you'll appreciate life outside of it a bit more."
That was thing about Luna, she could say something completely innocently and be the most insightful person you'd ever come across.
"I think that my father sent me here to catch a nargle though."
And then she would say something like that, effectively erasing anything she had said before.
It wasn't until she entered the Dining Hall and Luna wandered off to her own table that Ginny was faced with her newest dilemma. She had always had friends to spare, but now she was solitary and quiet, making it harder for her to decide who to sit near.
"Ginny!"
She looked to the end closest to her to see her brother and Hermione waving to her.
Oh god, oh no.
Her mind was screaming no, but still she felt her feet walking towards them.
If you sit there, you'll likely sit near him. You'll have to face him, see the person that makes you feel like this, how can you let yourself do this?
She sat, smiling at them. They were so happy together, so content in their current situation. There was her big brother, smiling at his girlfriend while she flipped through the pages of an overtly (and almost obnoxiously) thick textbook. His fingers lingered on her shoulder, resting gently like Harry's used to do to hers. Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat; Ron noticed and removed his hand, placing it on the table. She didn't know if he did it out of respect for her presence or simply because Hermione had issues with too much PDA.
"What happened kid? Did you fall of the face of the earth?" he teased her like big brothers do.
She smiled, grabbing a croissant. "No, I've just been busy."
She felt Hermione nudge her under the table. "To busy for us? That hurts!" Her brown eyes were sparkling like they only did when she was around Ron. Ginny couldn't help but think it was pretty adorable, despite her jealously for what they had.
Ginny peeled at the crisp, outer layer of the croissant, letting it fall onto her plate and break into even tinier pieces. "I miss you guys too, don't get me wrong."
"You're a liar, Gin," Ron kidded, his hair falling into his eyes. It was growing long, with the wizarding world on the edge of war the Weasley family had much more to worry about than simple haircuts.
It still amazed her how little they looked alike. His hair was darker, more red that orange while hers was the color of tangerines and sunsets. They both had brown eyes, but his were deep, rich color that differed from Ginny's amber eyes. In Ginny's opinion, the only thing that showed they were related was the spunk and sass they both contained in their personality.
"Ronald, I don't lie. I just fib to make you feel better about yourself," she retorted, popping a piece of doughy croissant into her mouth with a smile.
"Stop kidding yourself, you're high, Gin. Sky high and you don't have a clue how to get down," he stated with a firm nod, his eyes twinkling like the jokester he was.
"How are your classes?" Hermione inquired while mixing a bit of milk into her tea.
Ginny chuckled softly. "Only you'd want to talk about school these days."
Hermione shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. Growing up with Harry and Ron as best friends made her almost impossible to sting. "It's a legitimate question. When we win the war you'll have to get some sort of career and the only way to do that is…" She kept talking but Ginny had tuned out.
It was just then that her worst fear happened. He walked past them. He slapped palms with Ron and punched Hermione lightly on the shoulder. He was so enthralled with talking to them he didn't even see her.
He didn't even see her.
She abruptly stood from the table with a bang as her white plate fell to the floor. The croissant bounced and the plate shattered but she didn't care. It was as if time stopped and all she could hear was her own heartbeat. Hermione and Ron looked at her, realization flooding over their faces. Hermione instantly shut her mouth, cursing herself for thinking Ginny would want to talk about N.E.W.T.s. All Harry could do was stare at the floor.
So she left. She didn't run or even jog, she just walked away from them, ignoring the whispers from onlookers as she passed them. She just listened to the soothing thoughts in her head, willing herself away from anything that would cause her pain or stress.
They're waiting for me. They see me. I'm not invisible to them.
She pushed through the portrait hole, her energy gone from the concentration of getting to her safe haven. She collapsed onto a couch, flopping one arm over her eyes and dropping her tote onto the floor beside her.
It was getting easier and easier, falling into utopia each time she wanted. It was becoming automatic, an involuntary reaction to anything that bothered her. She had enough control to not let it happen unintentionally, but if it took more than a minute when she wanted to slip away, she became nervous that she'd lost that ability, that her secret was gone.
But each time she'd suddenly relax and begin to feel that soft, floating feeling that made her fingers tingle with delight.
She stepped carefully onto the stones of the stream, barefoot, her arms out to keep her balance. It had been autumn a few days before and suddenly, it was spring time. There were white blossoms on each of the little trees that grew alongside the border of the meadow. Everything smelled fresh and new. One day, she hoped they could explore the rest of her world, there had to be more than what she already knew.
She had already lain in his arms and now was off with Lela, talking and musing about the events of her day, nothing was too boring or miniscule to tell her closest confidant. Lela plopped down in the grass, plucking petals off of a daisy and letting them spin to through the air and to the ground. Ginny closed her eyes, inhaling the comforting scent that utopia had before sinking down beside Lela.
"I love it here," she whispered quietly.
Lela smiled, grabbing her dark hair tucking another daisy into her braid. "Of course you do. You can be you here; you can forget your doubts and not be afraid. It's completely safe, who wouldn't love it?"
Ginny closed her eyes, basking in the spring sun. "I'm not normally afraid out there, but just this year I became afraid, why can't I be like this out there?"
Lela shrugged, resting her chin in her hand. "I don't really know all the details of what makes a utopia, but I do know that you're you at your prime, the way you were at your best. It's more than just a coping mechanism, it's a complete escape."
Ginny smiled standing and brushing bits of grass off of her legs. "I like that. I like feeling like my best."
She offered Lela a hand, but she shook her head.
"Go find him, you know you want to, I'll just be here for a while."
Ginny nodded, walking away and hearing Lela's singing in the distance.
"She's like the swallow that flies so high, she's like the river that never runs dry,"
Ginny smiled at the lyrics, realizing that she was the topic of Lela's song. She plucked a wildflower from the meadow, tucking it behind her ear. She saw him in the distance and her smile grew. She stretched her arms out, feeling the sun wash over her and walking towards the thing that made her feel like her best. Lela was singing and she felt peace.
"She's like the sunshine on the lee shore, I love my love,"
She didn't even hear the last line, she didn't care. He was holding her, kissing her forehead and musing about how much she meant to him and much he loved her.
But if she had, she would've felt her heart stop.
"And love is no more."
.:x:.
(A/N- "She's Like the Swallow", for those of you who don't know, is a very old British folksong from the 1930's.)
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