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Don't Jump
By GinnyMarie

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Category: Pre-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mild Language
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 11
Summary:
“Then let’s jump together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” she said.

“Then you stop being ridiculous, Ginny.”

“I am not!”

Hitcount: Story Total: 6912



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:
So, I was reading a fanfiction today, and for some reason, I suddenly had the urge to write this. Its pretty self explanatory. This takes place right after Harry rescues Ginny from the Chamber. Few days after, I'd say. Right before the feast.

Written in like, an hour. Maybe? I don't remember. Maybe 45 minutes. I wasnt watching the clock. If there are errors, I'm sorry. Please point them out to me so I may fix it. I have only had my good friend, Adam, read over this. Otherwise, I have been the only one to read this.

Enjoy. Review por favor.

Song is Don't Jump by Tokio Hotel.

Oh, and they might seem too mature, but what would you be like if you'd been through all of that?




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Don't Jump



Just take my hand,
Give it a chance,
Don’t jump.
--Tokio Hotel--


The Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts was the highest point in the entire castle. At night, when it wasn’t used for classes, couples could sometimes be found having secret rendezvous; various charms against detection always set up to give them privacy. The heat of the passionate encounters kept the blistery-night air of Scotland from penetrating too deep. She, however, did not have that luxury. She was quite alone, standing on the parapet and staring out at the castle’s grounds miserably. She didn’t have the comfort of another body to keep her warm, or even a cloak.

She knelt down, tears falling from her eyes, and carefully bent to stare straight down, dizziness coming over her. She sobbed, leaning back, away from the edge, feeling fear.

“Come on, just jump,” she told herself with a sob. “Do it, you can. Come on, jump! Dammit, jump!” She shook her head again and backed off, edging towards the door uncertainly.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she said softly, the wind now whipping against the damp skin of her face, stinging harshly. She curled her hand into a fist and marched back towards the rampart, climbing up again. “Do it! Jump. Come on, just jump.”

She closed her eyes, swallowing the thick lump in her throat and stood. She didn’t know how long she stood there, the wind buffeting her as it blew past. It was cold, oddly cold for mid-June, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She’d be cold soon too. Blessedly cold. No thought. No guilt. Nothing.

Nothing.

“Dammit!” she screamed at the gods. She wished that the wind would push her off the tower, doing what she was too chicken to. She bit her lip and took a step backwards, staring at the lake.

Wasn’t this what they all wanted? She saw the looks she got in the halls. The stares, the…fear. She couldn’t take it. She wasn’t strong then, and she certainly wasn’t strong now. Why had she survived? Why couldn’t he have just been a minute too late? It would have made all this more easier.

“Jump. You can do it.” She couldn’t do it. But she couldn’t go everyday for six years facing those looks. It hurt too much. They knew what she’d done; how weak she’d been. To…she was disgusted, completely, with herself.

“I WANT TO DIE!” she yelled suddenly. She hoped that she woke the entire castle. She wanted them to see her broken body lying on the grass. Though, if they didn’t discover her until morning, then maybe more would see. More would know why she’d done it.

Death…

She wouldn’t have to see her parent’s disappointed looks anymore. She wouldn’t look into her brothers’ eyes and see the pain there. She didn’t want anyone else to feel guilty. It was her fault, not theirs. She was the one who fell for it. All her fault, completely and utterly.

“Let me die,” she whispered and stepped closer to the edge. The toes of her trainers were now just an inch over the edge. If she leaned even a centimeter forward, she’d fall.

What was she so afraid of?

The fall?

Or the landing?

Would she be dead before she hit the ground? Or would the impact be what killed her. Maybe she should just take her wand and use it. What spell would she use, though? She knew of the Killing Curse, but not it’s incantation. Her father had told her about it, that only someone with hate could use it. She hated herself.

Maybe a knife would be better? No, no. If she were found too soon, she’d live. She didn’t want to live. She wanted to make this permanent.

Would she scream as she fell? Would they hear? Would they care?

No, they wouldn’t. No one cared. All the more reason to jump. Just do it now. Yes, jump now.

“Jump.” Her voice was soft, and the one syllable fell from her mouth and was taken away with the wind.

She clawed her hand through her hair. How long had she been out here now? Did anyone notice her absence? No, probably not. Why would anyone care to look, anyway? Maybe one of her brothers. Maybe. Doubtful, but maybe.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked seriously. “Just jump. It’s that easy. It might even be pleasant. No, it will be pleasant.”

Death.

She looked up at the moon, barely having to crane her neck to see it, and stared for a moment, counting the craters that darkened spots. What was the moon like? Maybe, if she just took that step into air, she’d find out. Maybe that’s where heaven was.

But she wouldn’t go to heaven. She’d done horrible things. There was no place for her there. Hell, maybe. That is, if there is even an afterlife.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Don’t jump.” The voice startled her. She didn’t move, but stayed where she was, swallowing. She knew that voice. She’d know it anywhere.

“Why not?” She noticed for the first time that her voice was choked, nearly beyond recognition.

“Because you have people who will miss you.”

“Hah. That’s a laugh for sure, Harry,” she threw at him, taking a careful step and turning to face him. “Why would anyone care about me? I’m stupid, little Ginny Weasley. I was fucking possessed by Voldemort and I set a Basilisk on the school, on my friends!” He was standing, leaning against the doorframe, his face blank. “People would be glad I’m gone.”

“Ginny, you don’t really think that, do you?” he asked, stepping towards her. She narrowed her eyes.

“Celebrations would overcome the school. Streamers would hang all over the corridors, and a constant party would take place.”

“Ginny,” he said again, moving closer. She took a step back pointedly and he stopped. “Ginny, come on. Your family would miss you.”

“Only because they’re supposed to miss me. If they didn’t, then they’d be seen as cruel and coldhearted.”

“Ginny,” he said in a suffering voice. She rolled her eyes. “Please, come down from there. If you were going to jump, you would have done it thirty minutes ago.”

“How long have you been standing there?” she accused, glaring at him angrily.

“A while.”

“How long?”

“I followed you up after you left the common room earlier.” He reached in his pocket and pulled a bit of fabric out. His invisibility cloak.

“Just let me die.”

“No.”

“Why? Why did you follow me? Why won’t you just let me go?”

“Because, I care about you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“So?”

She hopped off the parapet and stalked towards him, jabbing her finger into his chest. “You only care because I am your best friends little, annoying sister.”

“No,” he denied.

She threw her hands in the air. “Then what is it, Harry? Why not just let me die?”

“Because you have people who love you. I won't let you throw that away. If anyone,” he said side-stepping her, “had real reason to jump,” he continued, hopping up on the rampart, “it would be me.” He spread his arms wide, staring at her with green eyes that were only dampened in intensity by a thin layer of glass.

“You have friends,” she said meekly, wondering how he’d turned this on her.

“You have family,” he shot back. “I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t have any friends.”

“Then let’s jump together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” she said.

“Then you stop being ridiculous, Ginny.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. You really are,” he said, hopping back down and moving towards her. “I would not throw away a great family like yours if I were paid ten times my weight in Galleons. I would hold on. I wouldn’t take myself away from them. I wouldn’t dare,” he lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “kill myself when I had them.”

She jerked back, staring at him. “Harry…”

And the dam broke. She was sobbing, really sobbing, steady streams of tears gliding down her face to plop onto her jumper. Air came in and left her lungs with great gasps and she crumpled to the cold stone, pressing her hands against it to ground herself.

His arms, small and weedy, but also strong and comforting, wrapped around her shoulders and he held her as she cried against him. He became her anchor as she sobbed, her arms clutching around his chest and at his back desperately, a scared eleven-year-old girl. After the sobs became nothing but soft sighs and her throat hurt enough that she thought she might later need a soothing potion, she still clung to him, her head buried in his green jumper.

He ran his hand soothingly over her hair. She wondered if he had comforted someone before, or what. “Ginny, we better get back to the tower.”

She tightened her grip on him, digging her nails into his shoulders and scooting closer to him. He was so alive, so warm and right, and she didn’t want to give this contact up.

He responded to her by squeezing gently. “People are bound to start missing us soon. And it’s long past curfew.”

“H-how did you get so sensitive?” she whispered against his neck.

“I don’t know. But you needed me.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. It’s what friends are for, right?”

“I’m not your friend, Harry. I’m just Ron’s little sister. I’m just the girl you’ve had to save twice.”

He rubbed her back, smoothing her hair. “Ginny, you are my friend. Maybe we’re not as close as Ron, Hermione and I, and we may never be, but you are my friend. Don’t forget that?”

She nodded, reluctantly. After a few minutes, he prompted her again and she stood shakily as he covered the both of them in the cloak. With a glance back out at the night, she took his arm, needing the contact, and held onto it all the way back to Gryffindor tower.


Reviews 11
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