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Thoughts on a Train | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 3 Summary: The day after Dumbledore's funeral Harry and Ginny find themselves on the train from Hogwarts together. These are their thoughts. Hitcount: Story Total: 3066 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law. No compensation is made for this work. |
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This is my first story for this site and I'd like to thank the marvellous Sanidad for beta reading it and helping me with working out html. I see you sitting there, staring out the window, and I get it. I understand. I sit here with you because my brother wants me to, and because I want to drink you in this one last time. You look tired, pale and wan. You look wonderful. Now and then, you look up and say something to my brother, but you avoid my eyes. I know you’d rather I wasn’t here, but I couldn’t stay away… couldn’t waste this last chance to see you before you go away to do whatever it is you’re doing. I ache inside every time I look at you. Was it really only yesterday you said the words? Was it really only a day ago that I allowed you to do it? You infuriate me sometimes with your nobility and insistence on keeping people safe. Yes, I understand you; I know why you did it and I know you didn’t want to any more than I did. But I also know you have to do something and I know I can’t go too. But seeing you so down, seeing you staring at nothing, makes my heart rip inside. And I love you, even though I told you yesterday that I “like” you. I love you so much it hurts terribly to let you go, to allow you to walk away from me. I know I will never let you see me cry, but as I look at you I feel the hot burning rising up inside. You smile sadly as you look out the window, as if you find something amusing, but as quickly as the smile comes, it is gone. You are focussed so much on what’s coming. I feel your fear but I also feel your steely resolution. That’s what makes you “you,” and why I know I have to let you go. It tears me up inside as I soak in the sight of you on this last train ride, and I keep my face composed with a huge effort so you and Ron don’t worry about me. I know he will ask some day soon what’s wrong with me, and how I feel about our split. And I’ll say I’m a bit cut up or something. That won’t even remotely describe the feelings roiling inside me, but it will satisfy him. I bleed with the thought of you going out there and I worry so much about what will happen to you while you’re gone. I’m sure that as a generic description “cut up” will cover the salient points, but it doesn’t really explain what I’m feeling. Even if I wanted to tell Ron any of this, I don’t have words accurate enough to describe what I will go through while we’re apart. I think you sense some of my boiling pain because you look over at me finally, and your eyes bore into me. I drop my gaze from you and sigh when I sense your eyes return to the window. And I sit here yearning for you but knowing that for your own good I have to let you go. I wish you weren’t here. I can’t look at you because I know it would stab me too much to see your eyes and know how you feel right now. Instead, I look out the window and answer Ron’s questions when he forces me to. But all the time I feel you. I feel your pain, and it rips me apart and eats away at my resolve to stay away from you. Thing is, Gin, I know you understand that I don’t really want to end this thing. But I have to. I sit here staring out this window, seeing nothing and musing only of you. I can feel your eyes on me, and I know you aren’t as composed as you look sitting there–I know you. Unfortunately, Voldemort knows me, and if he ever realised what I feel for you, he would attack you just to get at me. And I love you; I love you too much to bear having you targeted just because I care about you. It sounds stupid I know, and I laugh silently as I sit here thinking about it. I can feel your eyes slide to my face as I smile at that thought. Knowing that you understand me, I can tell you feel the sour sting behind the smile, but I hope you never guess what I am thinking right now. You would never let me go if you knew just how much I desperately want to bury my head in your hair and just lose myself. I feel like I have splintered into so many pieces since Dumbledore died that I am disintegrating slowly as the days go by. I left one of those pieces with you when I turned and walked away yesterday, and I think that’s the only one that’s holding me together at all. Was it really only yesterday since I turned and left you there by the lake? Since I destroyed myself to keep you safe? I hope I can come back to you–come back and claim that part of me–but if I can’t, at least you will be safe. I need you to be safe if I’m going to carry on at all. You sit there seemingly calm, but I can tell you are thinking about something painful. Me, Gin? Is it me who is making you pulsate with that terrible sadness no one else seems to see? The thought makes me tremble, and I look directly at you for the first time since entering this train, and the pain in your eyes makes my heart ache. I almost shatter with the knowledge that I’m the one doing that to you. You look away from me but I keep looking at you, trying to dispel the guilt somehow, trying to memorise every facet of your face before we part. I hear you sigh as I finally drag my eyes away to look out the window again. And I sit here yearning for you but knowing that for your own good I have to let you go. |
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