DELUSIONS OF A SHATTERED MAN

‘The giving up is the hardest part

She takes you in with her crying eyes

Then all at once you say goodbye’

I rolled over, staring at the blank ceiling, as dull and lifeless as the person within me. My back was sticking to the scrunched bed sheets. It was hot. It was humid. Yet I could feel nothing but pure cold. I felt as though my heart had been ripped out, sliced into tiny little pieces, and forced back in as a shattered wreck. It was hard to do anything, to move, to think, even to breathe. Every breath cursed through my body like poison, as every moment without her aged me a few years.

I was lost. I wanted her warm embrace, her comfort. I didn’t want to go one moment with out her, yet I knew I must. I had to put a stop to the madness of our world. I had to end the tyranny, the havoc and destruction before it was too late. That is what I was destined to do. That is why I must be alone. That is why I had to end it. I had leave her, for her own safety. But what I wouldn’t give for one more gentle moment with my Ginny.

“Uh, Harry, do you want to maybe, um, get some lunch mate?” Ron’s head poked around the door. We were staying at some shabby muggle hotel, gradually making our way to Godrics Hollow. It was taking longer than I know it should, but I lacked the energy and the will to carry on.

“No, I’m not hungry. I’m going to go back to sleep” I rolled onto my stomach, pulling the blanket over my head, and snuggling into the pillow.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Harry! Get – out – of – bed - now!” Hermione stormed in, pulling the blanket from over my head. Grudgingly, I forced myself to look at her. The bushy hair was tied back into a pony tail, her hands on her hip, and a look that would have done Mrs Weasley proud.

“You cannot lie in bed forever! Have you forgotten that you have a job to do? You have a duty to fulfil! A cause to protect the greater good of our world! What would Sirius think of you right now?” She shrilled

I sat up on the bed, looking at Ron. He looked awkward, as he always did around confrontation. I peeked at Hermione out of the corner of my eye, a cheeky grin across my face.

“Well, Mrs Weasley, my godfather Sirius would probably deplore me on my actions, saying I was not standing by my morals, and what was right in the world, yielding my disposition and bringing shame to the name ‘Potter’.” I paused, savouring the pleased expression on Hermione’s face, as she thought she had won.

“On the other hand,” Her eyes narrowed, waiting for what had to come next. “Sirius, my friend, companion, one of the only people who truly understood me, would say take all the rest you can get, as life is shorter than you think.”

Hermione’s face fell into an ugly twist of rage, slowly turning a light shade of magenta. Ron snorted, in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. Hermione shot a death glare at him, shutting Ron up instantly.

“Fine then, Harry. Be a child. Be foolish. Wallow in your own self-pity.” Hermione spat.

“You’re not my mother” I hated how she did that. She always treated me like her child, protecting me from god knows what; I’ve seen more death and destruction then she has.

Hermione’s expression softened and I could tell she was hurt at the bluntness of my words.

“No, I’m not Harry” She quietly replied “I just care about you, you’re my friend.” She headed towards the door, and Ron moved to put his arm around her.

At the doorway, Hermione turned back to me, and I saw her tear stricken face in the dull afternoon glow, feeling a pang of guilt.

“I just can’t help to think what Ginny would say, if she saw you right now.”

‘Wondering could you stay my love?

Will you wake up by my side?

No she can’t, because she’s gone’

I was filled with anticipation. I couldn’t work out these feelings in my head. I was confused as hell. I wanted to be with her, to feel her touch, her warm tantalising breath, her kiss fill me with heat. She was an angel in a floral scent disguise. She was a rose which blossomed gracefully, causing men to fall at her feet to be with her. Her passion was a red hot as her flaming hair, exciting me.

One thought keeps entering my mind, no matter how much I feel about her, how much I want to cherish her, she’s Ron’s younger sister.

Nerves were high, as I thought of the game. Snape, the dickhead himself, had kept me in this monotonous detention for weeks. I was ready to kill him, setting fire to each file as I went. I wanted Gryffindor to win, of course, and Snape knew how much it was torturing me not to be there. I looked at the clock, figuring I only had half an hour left to go. Half an hour I could escape. Half an hour and I could see how we went. Half an hour, I could talk to Ginny.

I ran up the marble staircase, as fast as my legs would take me. Quidditch was over and I needed to know who won. Strangely enough, no one could be found, so I didn’t have a chance to ask anyone on the way. As I ripped back the fat lady’s portrait, I was greeted by a swarm of fire red hair.

“Harry! Harry we won!! We won! We won! We won! We won the cup!” Ginny trilled, her gentle face broken in her beautiful smile, glowing with pride.

Without thinking, I pulled her to me and kissed her. Her lips we warm and soft. Her body felt warm against mine, fitting just like a puzzle, like she was the piece I was always missing. I realised she was kissing me back, her tongue roaming expertly in my mouth. Her hands had moved to my hair, with her fingers gently running through it. I never wanted this to end. I never wanted this feeling of completeness to leave. I never wanted to be alone.

After a while, we broke apart to catch a breath. I looked over at Ron. It was clear to me he was okay. I grinned, feeling for once, that things were perfect, and glad that I was me.

It had been three weeks since Ginny and I first kissed, and life was fantastic. Numerous times we had snuck out, cuddling under my invisibility cloak, sneaking into the room of requirement. Around midnight she would meet me in the common room, and we would make sure no one was around before we disappeared, off to explore another, breath taking, adventure.

‘When you’re dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part’

I woke with a start, my sheets damp with the remains of my, heavy, dream. I looked beside me, half expecting to see her there, arms above her head, cheeky, sexy, sly grin on her face. The kind of look that always made me melt.

Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair, realising that I was alone.

“She’s not here,” I whispered, “She’ll never be here. We’re through. We’re done. We’re back page news”

Lying back down on my pillow, I cried, thinking of my one and only. My Ginny.

‘Cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…’