I’m no stranger to reality; I’ve had my fair share of it. I would be forced to consort with it in a last bid for happiness, rallying my efforts to waylay desolation of heart and clamping down on weak emotions that would only make it harder to survive this war.
You were my rallier.
I watched you from my window that last week. The star-filled sky mocked your bereavement but you were as determined as ever. I waved even though I knew you couldn't see past the darkness that had become a constant companion. I did not cry. I knew what you were setting out to do and I was powerless to stop it. They needed you more than I did.
After you left, we were engulfed in an inevitable pattern of grief, an endless song that only grew louder with time. The nights were the worst. I heard it all; my mother sobbing silently two stories down, my father pacing helplessly in the kitchen, and the visitors who came in and out, bearing news that did nothing for our growing anxiety. And I scoured the night sky, peering at the hapless stars, looking for answers to questions I was too afraid to voice in daylight, hoping that you were watching the same sky.
I was as vigilant as ever at school. The desperation descending on wizarding kind in droves could not touch me here. You were a constant presence. The chair by the fire where you always sat, the secluded corners of the castle where we would sometimes find ourselves, the Room of Requirement, the quidditch pitch that we would never share again. The new regime tried to break me, but I was stronger than that. There were no tears. The wave of helplessness that possessed many would never conquer me; I wouldn’t think and I wouldn’t doubt. Anger and grief became unbridled determination. So long as I was planning and fighting, I was not drowning in thoughts and feelings. I was good at repression.
The storm had come, just as you said it would, and you were lost in its midst. They had always asked so much of you. Sacrifice, again and again, but don’t expect anything in return. Do not rest. That was all you had. All the while, I had to sacrifice us. I didn't try to keep you for myself, I understood that the matter had complete claim over your heart. You had a score to settle with darkness and I let you go, numbing the pain so you would have the strength to do what had to be done.
I was pushed to the back of your mind in a holy place you reserved for the happiness you didn't let yourself believe you would ever be master of. There were more urgent things at hand. You had left everything behind you, but I was going to make sure you never forgot me. Even on the road, you were sure to hear of my heroic deeds, and acknowledge that I had done them for you. You were gone before I could utter a last goodbye, a last hopeful glance. I told myself that it was probably better that way. I would have less memories to agonize over under the cover of night, when no one could suspect that the strong girl was losing it.
You had said your farewells with the firm belief that they were final, like the last clap of thunder before the world falls still. I let you believe that, and in all my stoic glory, did not let you see the smallest flicker of hope in my reflective eyes. This was bigger than us. You tried to imply that I shouldn't wait, shouldn't expect, but you were preaching on deaf ears. I never said I was going to play by your rules. You knew I wasn't going to sit quietly by, waiting to hear news of your death. So I kept on fighting, trying to keep the dread at bay. It was a losing battle, and everyday brought more futile news reports and taunting headlines.
I left school then, before the storm could reach its full potential. I would not let myself feel.Hard, empty shells care not how often they are kicked to the floor or beat against the sharp rocks of life's shores. They locked me up in my home, they said it was to keep me safe. The endless night grew darker as the stars stopped lending their glow. I was insignificant.
They didn't want me fighting in the battle of Hogwarts. They must not have realized that I had been fighting my own war all along. I wouldn’t be held back. I fought the cold, tearing at the carefully knit threads of the lie I had been living and letting myself fall apart. I let the wave take me so I would feel for one last time before I set out hopelessly, just like you had, sacrificing everything you had to bring down the darkness.
And as the twilight of the battle descended upon us, the dead and injured lay in heaps and there were still no tears. They wouldn’t distract me now, I was a flame of resolve that could not be doused. It was with the hope that it would all be over and we would finally be free, even though you had told me not to hope.
I saw you dead at His feet. I had not known before how much hope would hurt. You had resigned any right to happiness before you left, it was easier that way. I didn't have the cause ingrained in my heart like you did, so I made the mistake of hoping, envisioning a better day with you and I free of the storm. The coldness returned with a vengeance. My emotions frozen over and unreachable. There were no tears.
And then you weren't dead. I didn’t let myself thaw out. I kept the clamp down and fought with new vigor that effectively suppressed the desperation that was threatening to overtake me.
It was over soon after, you vanquished the dark lord and felled the darkness just like I had let myself hope you would. I relinquished my hold on control and let reality consume me, drowning in months of repressed emotions and despair, letting the tears come.
Fred was gone. I couldn't help but feel like fate had cheated us. Nothing was ever going to be given freely, and happiness was a long sought after prize with a high price. It was the dawn of a better era, but the ashes of the past would forever linger.
There would be scars, there would be peace, and life, and serenity. And there would be tears.
Just some Ginny love. I would love some feedback :)
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