Short ficlet. 'She didn't care, all she wanted to do was love him.' HPGW. A bit ... sad. Weirdish.
Ginny tossed and turned, finding it unable to fall asleep. She always found herself like this at night. Ever since her second year, her nights were filled with nothing but sobbing, guilt, and pain. Every night until her sixth year she would crawl onto the couch with Harry Potter, who would rub her back and tell her it's okay, that she did nothing, that she was fine. And every night she would fall asleep in his loving arms until he found himself getting tired, when he would carry her back up to her dorm room.
Since her sixth year, Harry's seventh, she couldn't run into his arms anymore. He couldn't kiss her lightly on the forehead, or rub her back, or tell her it was okay. Ever since her sixth year, a new nightmare haunted her dreams. A new chill was sent down her spine. She couldn't run into the arms of Harry Potter because Harry Potter couldn't hold her. It was impossible. The reason Harry Potter couldn't help the only girl he truly loved was because he was dead. She couldn't run into the arms of a nonexsistant ghost.
During his seventh year, Voldemort got stronger. Voldemort got wiser. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron went to the Department of Mysteries for the second time to fight Voldemort and his 'army' of Death Eaters. After defeating more then half of the Death Eaters, Harry was understandably weakened. When he went against Voldemort, all Hermione, Ginny, and Ron could do was try to help as much as possible, but basically sit and watch. And when Harry killed Voldemort, they were all happy. They hugged him. Ginny kissed him. She saw his face grow cold, then fall. She felt him push her out of the way and get hit by a curse sent from the last Death Eater.
So now, Ginny pulled the blanket over her head, trying to forget the look of fear he sent her, the last kiss. The gentle but forceful push he gave her. The way he fell on his knees, then down on the floor, immobile. Everytime she pushed those thoughts out of her head, she remembered the good ones. The time he first told her he liked her. When he asked her out. When he first kissed her. When he wrapped his arms around her for no reason. When he beat up Draco for calling her a "dumb muggle-lover" and "just another Weasley." The way he told her, soothingly, that she was more then just another Weasely. When he laughed and said, "you're my Weasley, and you're much better then Fred or George. Cuter, too." When she playfully hit him and he kissed her, reclined on the couch, snuggled. And the memories would lead to tears that she knew wouldn't be sheltered or wiped away.
She got up and walked down to the commonroom, sitting on the couch in front of the fire. Their couch. The couch where she recieved her first kiss from him. Where he first said "I love you." She could practically hear the conversation in her head. She picked up an orange pillow and hugged it close to her stomache, wishing it was Harry. Wishing it could become Harry's arms. Wishing the cushion she was sitting on could become Harry's lap. She closed her eyes and took in the warm fire, but the chill would not go away. That strange feeling of aloneness would not leave.
Before she knew it, she was asleep, dreaming about the last time she ever saw her boyfriend, when she felt a cold breeze flow through the commonroom. She opened her eyes and looked at the portrait hole, where a shadowy figure was standing. She shuddered, then felt a small tear fall down her cheek. Wiping it away, she got up and confirmed what she knew all along. She ran into her arms, not wondering why or how.
"Gin..." she heard him mutter into her hair, hugging her. She felt her hair become wet and when she looked up, he was crying. "I love you so much... I miss you..." Ginny cried into his robes, her voice lost in the emotion. Shock. Love.
"I..." Without words, she placed her salty lips on his and his fingers intwined in her hair, her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. He kissed hers. She stepped back and put her hands on his cheeks, feeling the skin. He was really here. He was really kissing her. "Oh, I've missed you..." She didn't question it. She didn't want to lose whatever was going on.
"I love you, Ginny, I always will. No matter what keeps us apart, I will always love you..." He brushed his fingers against her cheek, and she noted how she felt they were dirty. A bit grimy and muddy. She didn't care, all she wanted to do was love him.
"I love you too, Harry..."
With a start, she awoke, still feeling she was in her dream. She looked into the fire and could have sworn she saw Harry's face. His smiling eyes. His loving smile. She stumbled into the bathroom, ready to wash off her face with cold water to wake her up, but what she saw in the bathroom mirror frightened her, thrilled her, excited her. On her cheek was a small amount of mud.
Author's Note: Wow. I feel...sophisticated. LOOK AT ALL THE PARAGRAPHS! (Hehe). Anyway, I really liked this. I'll leave it up to you to decide what's going on.
- Elizabeth (Aka Lizzie/Lizzeh, but due to the sophisticatedness of this ff, I decided Elizabeth was suitable. AHAHA BIG WORDS!)