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Solace | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 5 Summary: "So here she was, alone and a bit lonely, but less sad and more confused. She was somewhere in between apathy and acceptance. For a month they avoided each other's presence. She knew it was hypocritical to be mad, because she was doing the same, but she felt a dull ache in her chest every time he looked away from her or left the room if they were alone." Hitcount: Story Total: 3495 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 under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: This is a little one-shot I wrote, I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think in the reviews. |
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With shortness of breath I'll explain the infinite How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist saturn- sleeping at last She had always loved sunny days. She loved the feeling of her skin warming up and the sun reflecting on her face. She loved the instant warmth and shimmering brightness. She loved it all. She loved the gentle breeze that caressed her skin, but also the raucous wind that made her hair fly in a fiery whirlwind. She rested on the white sand and listened to the fervent waves crashing. The deserted shore offered shelter to her tumultuous thoughts. With her eyes closed she listened carefully to the sounds of the sea. If her mother could see her now she would tell her to be careful, that she would get a sunburn, that her freckles would stand out even more, that she would get sick, that it was not safe to be outside alone. But her mother wasn't there; her mother was at home. She felt selfish for leaving her mother and her family, but she needed time. She needed to think about what she felt and what she loved and what she loathed and what she thought. So she ran. She said she needed to leave and saw the disappointment and resignation in her father's eyes. "I need to leave, please." She had said. "I'll go stay with Bill, just a few days." "As long as you need, sweetheart," was her father's reply. So here she was, alone and a bit lonely, but less sad and more confused. She was somewhere in between apathy and acceptance. She wanted to be strong like her father and sympathetic like her mother, but she was just weak and selfish and resigned to not accept any help or pity. She was stubborn and she knew it. She was a loner and she was fine with it. It was her choice to be alone and to not talk to him. In the end it was always him. And it made her feel angry and ridiculous, but also hopeful and courageous. For a month they avoided each other's presence. She knew it was hypocritical to be mad, because she was doing the same, but she felt a dull ache in her chest every time he looked away from her or left the room if they were alone. She hated when people thought she was weak, but also if they thought she was unaffected by the horrors of the war. She hated that she was not seventeen yet and had lost more than many in a lifetime. She hated that she didn't have the right to grieve in front of others because she was the strong one, and she hated that Bill told her that it was fine to cry, because she hid every time she felt her throat close up and her eyes prickle. She hated being the tough one and being such a coward at the same time. She loved too many things and too many people. She loved too intensely and sometimes not at all. Maybe it was loving what affected her. She knew people that never loved; maybe those were the happy ones, the lucky ones. But she had known evil and hate from a young age and from too close to know that people like that were condemned to a hapless fate of discontent. She couldn't decide if she loved him. His presence made her stomach flutter and her mind cloud, but his absence made her feel a bit calmer, and that only brought guilt. If she didn't see him, she didn't have to confront her feelings and his imminent departure. Because in the end, he didn't belong to a house of anguished ghosts, and she wasn't sure of where she belonged. "Your dad said I could find you here," said his unmistakably voice, taking her away from her thoughts. Sitting up and turning she saw him standing a few meters behind her. He looked different now, over a month after the war ended. He had gained some weight and didn't look as pale as before, but there was still a troubled look in his eyes and a hovering sadness in the way he looked (or didn't) at her. There was some stubble on his face and his hair was an unruly as ever. "Yea, I'm staying with Bill for a few days," she replied and gestured for him to sit next to her. They sat in polite silence for a while. He continued stealing glances at her and she continued pretending she didn't see him. "It's strange to see you wearing a dress," he said finally. She looked down at her pale blue sundress. "Fleur's gift," she said smiling. "I think she's trying to turn me into a lady." He let out a chuckle. "Who would have thought that you and Fleur would be friends after last summer? I was scared that you would end up in Azkaban for murder before the wedding." "A lot has changed in a year, I guess." Her words brought a somber look to his face and she scolded herself for being so blunt. "I know," he said looking down. "I'm sorry I've been so distant." "Don't apologize," she said shamefully. "I've been avoiding you too." "Is that why you left?" he asked and she felt the sadness in his voice and she wanted nothing more than to tell him it would be fine in the end, but she wasn't sure if it would. "Part of it, but not the entirely," she sighed. "I needed time to think and it's like a madhouse at the Burrow. I know it's selfish, but I needed time to grieve by myself." "You don't have to grieve by yourself," he laughed at her scowl. "I know it's hypocritical coming from me, but you don't have to deal with it alone… I would be there for you if you wanted me to." "It's not that easy," she said. "We're different from them, Harry. I want to be like my parents or my brothers, but I'm not like that. Neither are you. People like us don't get to mourn, because we're used to losing and they think it doesn't affect us as much. People like us don't get to cry in someone else's shoulder. We don't get to stay in bed for a week, like Mum, unable to speak to others because the pain is too much. "You lost your family and your friends and the chance of having a normal childhood. You've lost more than any other and you still manage to wake up in the morning and be functional. I have forgotten how to smile out of happiness and not out of solace." "What did you lose?" he asked bluntly. "Myself, mostly." He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again with a dejected look on his face. The sun was hiding behind a cloud casting a shadow over them. They welcomed the silence once again and she thought that she didn't mind. His silence was worth more than all the conversations she had had in her life. "Ginny… I'm so sorry, I know I —" "You don't have to apologize for anything," she interrupted him. "If there was something to forgive, then it has already been forgiven." "No, let me say this," he said and for the first time in a month he held her hand and entwined their fingers. "I'm not good at talking," he started. "I'm so sorry for Fred. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. I'm sorry you feel that you don't have the right to grieve…I'm sorry that you felt that you had to run away from your home. I…I haven't been the best friend to you and I've been avoiding you, though you've been doing the same. But I thought you wanted to be alone. Lately it's too hard to be around you, because all I can think of is asking you to try again and I know you said you had forgiven me for everything…but…maybe I don't deserve it. "I keep thinking that maybe it's completely over between us and I've been too afraid to talk to you and what you could say. So many things happened last year…I'm scared that you have moved on and…and I couldn't blame you if you have. There are so many things I want to tell you about the last year and the Final Battle, but I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it, or if you even want to hear it." "You don't have to tell me," she said. "There are a lot of things I want to say too, but I keep reminding myself that those are my problems and you're probably dealing with enough by yourself. I want to talk about last year and all of it, but not right now. I don't think I'm ready either." "Maybe we can talk to each other instead if thinking we're just going to be a burden." "I…I would like that," she smiled. "Eventually we can talk about all of it." His smile met hers. She missed that smile so much. It was one that was reserved for her only during the afternoons spent lazily by the lake and the nights sitting by the fire in the Common Room. "Is there anything else in your mind?" he asked. "I think I love you." "Well, that's good." Her eyes widened and he blushed. "I mean —it's good that you love me —or that you think you love me, because it would make me feel rather stupid. You see- ." She let out a laugh and he blushed even more deeply. "I love you!" he said loudly. "I know it's probably a horrible time to say that, but I do love you. If you're not sure whether you love me or not, then you don't have to say anything, but I wanted you to know. I sound like a total idiot." Her eyes stung like whenever someone mentioned Fred's name or she saw the photograph Colin Creevey had given her for her fifteenth birthday, but there was not the blunt pain in her chest that often accompanied her at night when she cried in the solitude of her bedroom. Instead there was a warm sensation, just like the sun burning her skin during the first days of the spring. "I love you too," she replied and joined her hands once again. "I don't know if it will work, I don't know if we'll be together after the summer ends, but I can promise you that neither of us will have to be sad alone. I promise you that I won't leave the table when you come down for breakfast or avoid your eyes searching for me. And I'll tell you about last year when the time is right." "I promise that too," he said smiling. "I promise I'll try to stop being so distant and we'll talk about everything. I know it's not going to be easy, but we could at least try." "I guess fighting a Dark Lord gave you a certain maturity and a new perspective of the world, Potter," she laughed. "Who would have thought that you were such an eloquent romantic?" "I've been rehearsing what to say for two weeks," he admitted. "I also have a version of my speech in case you said we were done and you had a new boyfriend." "Oh really?" she teased him. "Why don't you tell me about it?" "It was mainly me asking who the prat was and challenging him to a duel for your love." "Very romantic," she said sarcastically. "Also quite outdated. I could've still said no, even if I didn't have a new boyfriend." "I know that, but I was hoping you still cared about me." "I'm always going to care about you, you giant idiot," she told him. "I hope you care about me too." She moved forward and kissed him softly. It felt better than their first kiss. There was so much love and promise in a simple, chaste kiss. She loved him and now she was sure. But loving caused pain and she had had enough of it. They broke the kiss and stared at each other's eyes. "I'm afraid that you're going to wake up one day and realize you don't belong with me," she confessed. "I know it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking that you'll want to find a new adventure and you'll leave. There are a lot of things we need to talk about, and for now maybe we should…we should just be friends." His besotted expression changed to one of disappointment and confusion. "You just want to be friends?" he asked. "No! That's not what I meant," she explained rapidly. "I mean that we need to learn how to be friends before we become something else. We need to trust each other completely and be honest. After the summer ends I'll be going back to Hogwarts and you'll go to Auror training. Until then, let's just enjoy the summer. There's no one else I want to be with. I just don't want us hurting each other because we can't deal with what we've been through." Understanding downed on him and he smiled weakly. "I love you." "You already said it," she smiled. "And feel free to say it how many times you want to. I love you too." They kissed again and talked about her family, their friends, and how he was taller and her hair was shorter. At night they went back to the Burrow together holding hands and receiving an approving smile from her parents and the tease from her brothers. Even George, who looked taciturn and weary most of the time, made fun of them and threatened them both to deadly pranks if they hurt each other. He walked her to her bedroom when it was very late and kissed her goodnight. He whispered "I love you," and so did she. And for the first time in months, she was optimistic. And for the first time in years, she thought that maybe, just maybe, they would get better. |
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