Chapter 1 : Loneliness In The Evening
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When You’re Gone
I wake in the loneliness of sunrise
when the deep purple heaven turns blue
And start to pray, as I pray each day, that I'll hear some word from you.
I lie in the loneliness of evening looking out on a silver flaked sea
And ask the moon, how soon, how soon, will my love appear to me?
Will my love appear to me?
She had always loved her bed, it was her most favourite place in the world. Her bed was the place where she could stretch out eating rubbish, flick through magazines, lose herself in the fantasy of books and allow her imagination to soar during her dreams.
Ginny Weasley sighed heavily staring up at the ceiling, one of her favourite dreams had been wondering what it would be like to kiss Harry for the first time. Now she knew what it was like. She knew how it felt to have his arms holding her close, she knew how it felt to have his body pressed against her own and his fingers curling themselves in the ends of her long red hair.
Blinking rapidly Ginny flicked the bed sheets from her and swung herself into a sitting position on the end of the end. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t. That was her mantra, the one thing she chanted over and over again in her head whenever she felt she was going to break; and the walls she had erected around herself were going to crumble.
“I won’t though,” she muttered, brushing the tangle of red waves from her face. “I won’t fall apart, it won’t help Harry if I do.”
Moving to the window and pulling the curtains back Ginny leant on her elbows and gazed out at the garden of The Burrow. A feeling of nostalgia washed over her as her eyes drank in the long untended grass, the rickety shed in the corner and the broken gate that hung perilously on it’s hinges. This had been a place that had once been full of laughter and happiness. A place where the family spent time together joking and sharing secrets, playing Quidditch, irritating Percy, teasing Ron and getting rid of the gnomes living in the garden.
Sighing Ginny shook her head slightly. The Burrow was not that place any longer. Now she was the only one left, and being left was something that was slowly driving Ginny mad.
“Too young,” she mimicked the many voices who quoted those two words at her constantly. Sometimes Ginny felt those words and been thought up especially for her. No matter what she wanted to do she was always told she was “too young.”
Ron was only a year older than she was and he was off gallivanting around the country with Harry, doing Merlin only knew what and risking his life for what he believed to be right. Why she couldn’t have gone along she didn’t know! She could have helped! She was good at spells, she was quick, she was just as brave as the rest of them! Why did Harry insist on leaving her behind?
Unwillingly another scene began to unravel before her eyes. She saw a long table sitting neatly in the middle of the lawn, she saw the people surrounding it as clearly as if they were indeed doing that very thing right now; and there, in a place of honour was a giant birthday cake in the shape of a golden snitch.
Tears burned the back of Ginny’s eyes but she squared her slim shoulders determinedly. She would not cry. She would not cry for the days gone by, she would not cry for the memories that haunted her, she would not cry for what could have been; and most of all she would not cry for him.
Ginny may have been able to control the tears, she’d had a lot of practice at willing herself not to cry; of telling herself to be strong.; but she couldn’t control the ache in her heart.
She cursed under her breath. Harry was gone, he had left her. “And not just left me,” she reminded herself bitterly. “He broke up with me before he went.” Ginny scowled out at the night sky that was now slowly turning a gentle lilac as the night melted into day and the sun was beginning to wake. “Git.” She pronounced with feeling.
The corners of her lips twitched into an unwilling smile. She could call Harry a git if she liked, she could call him all the names under the sun, but it didn’t alter facts did it? It didn’t stop her missing him, it didn’t stop her wanting him to come back.
She yawned and stretched out her back. If she could just fall out of love with Harry for a little while it might be easier to cope with missing him. Biting her lower lip Ginny shivered, “someone just walked over my grave,” she muttered.
Turning she dropped to her knees beside her chest of drawers and rummaged in the bottom draw for a small green box covered with pictures of her favourite Quidditch team, taking the lid away from the bottom of the box she smiled when she saw Harry grinning up at her.
This was her special box, her Harry Box. Here she kept all the little things that held sentimental memories of Harry. Anyone looking at the box would think it held memorabilia of Quidditch, “growing up with a load of brothers who like to tease and a nosy mother a girl needs some tricks,” Ginny told her empty room, giggling quietly to herself.
Leaning back against the bed Ginny began to slowly thumb through her memories, allowing her mind to drift back to certain points in the past that held specific pleasure for her. Especially the first kiss she had shared with Harry. A faint flush crept into her cheeks, Harry certainly wasn’t the most subtle of boys, he had kissed her right in front of everyone after winning at Quidditch! “It would have been nice for it to be just us two, Harry,” she told his grinning picture.
But it had been just them two, everyone else, all other noise had faded away and she had only been aware of Harry’s presence in the world. There had only been the gentle pressure of his lips on hers for the brief first contact with him.
Ginny’s stomach muscles quivered in response to her memory and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. If she started to cry now she wouldn’t stop, not until she saw him again, not until he held her close to him again and she was sure that he really was there with her.
“He’ll be back,” she said determinedly, even to her own ears her voice sounded thin, the tone a little shaky beneath the firm surface.
She never allowed herself to think anything else. Whenever the little doubts began to niggle at her Ginny would always find an argument to get rid of them. Harry was Harry! He always came back, he was supposed to come back and be with her. In spite of breaking up with her Ginny knew Harry loved her, that was why he had left her, pushed her away; because he wanted her to be kept safe.
“You’re a good guy, Harry,”
The sound of the birds who lived in the copse on top of the hill caught her ears, they were up and singing, welcoming a new day. Scrambling to her feet Ginny gazed out of the window again, enjoying the sight of the rose hue of dawn washing over the horizon, the pink light looping its way through the leaves of the trees like a ribbon; creeping slowly towards The Burrow to tell the Weasley’s the morning was here.
“Another day down,” Ginny told the dawn, satisfaction lacing her voice. This meant another day closer to Harry’s return.
It also meant another day closer to the start of term at Hogwarts. Ginny longed to go back to school and see her friends. She hated being at The Burrow now, she was alone. Her parents and older brothers had no time to sit and talk or play a game of cards with her, they were all too busy helping the Order. She had to stay at home of course, because she was too young.
A deep frown lined her forehead and a prickle of anger stabbed at her chest. At least at Hogwarts no-one told her she couldn’t help; once she was there with Luna and Neville and the other from the old DA she was certain she could do something to help Harry, Ron and Hermione.
And having her friends around her would certainly ease her loneliness. Ginny was lonely now that Harry, Ron and Hermione had left. Even Fred and George were too busy to have fun anymore! All she had were her memories and Ginny felt as though she were going mad with boredom.
Boredom was her main problem she admitted that, there was nothing to do. If she had something to do maybe she wouldn’t be lonely. She was lonely for Harry and the knowledge just hurt.
Ginny had never been lonely for a boy in her entire life. She had always wanted Harry, but he had been her friend and she had accepted that. At least then he was in her life! Now she was the one left behind, never knowing what was happening, if he was alright, where he was, what he was doing.
She had no idea where Harry was, not one of the three of them had been willing to divulge any sort of information to her before they left and Ginny resented that. Didn’t they think she could keep a secret? She wouldn’t betray Harry’s whereabouts for the world!
“Damn you, Harry Potter!” She hissed angrily.
How could one person do this to another? How could one boy make her feel a million things at once? She was angry at him for leaving her, but then she also understood that he had to go. She was scared that he was gone, but she also knew he would be fine. She was lonely without him, but her memories sometimes helped to chase that feeling away. She hated him for going, for not keeping in touch with her, but she loved him for the same reasons because she knew he was doing it for her; to keep her safe.
“How long can all this take? How soon will you be back?” She asked the fading moon and rising sun.
They were both in the sky together now and Ginny knew the moon would soon be gone completely, taking away the loneliness of the night with it. The sun would be bringing a new day, and perhaps, just maybe this was the day when she would receive that much longed for owl? Just a small letter, a one line note to say they were alright. Anything would be better than nothing!
He’d better survive all of this, Ginny thought irritably, because after this was over she was going to kill him! Her fingers tightened their hold over the photograph she still held and she sighed heavily, why couldn’t he just let her know he was safe, that he was planning on coming home?
His emerald green eyes sparkled as he stared up at her from the photograph, a grin slid across his lips and Ginny’s heart ached when she recalled how softly those lips caressed her own. He raised a hand an ruffled his hair and her stomach leapt at the memory of those slightly roughened hands stroking the bare skin of her lower back.
Ginny bit her lip, no longer fighting the glistening tears that skimmed over her freckled cheeks. How could she cope without him? How could she live when he wasn’t with her? She wondered if he knew she was half dead without him?
“Harry,” she whispered brokenly. “Please come back,”