Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Classification: Drama / Angst
Pairing: D/G
Rating: G
Author's notes: another angsty ficlet! I never thought I'd write something like this, but I was kind of inspired by Langston Hughes' poem Minstrel Man, so here is what came out of it. Again, don't forget to review!
Summary: Draco died, but life goes on. Or does it? On the outside Ginny is a normal happy woman, but deep inside she's dying. And no one knows.
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"Ginny, are you coming?" her brother called out, entering the kitchen.
"Yes," she turned around and smiled, hoping he hadn't seen her tears. "I'll be there in a minute."
"All right, but do hurry up!" he urged and disappeared behind the door.
It was little Katie's birthday today and all the Weasley clan got together for this occasion. It was times like this when she missed Draco the most. But she knew that the birthday kid must be getting impatient to blow out the candles at last, so she didn't dwell on that thought for too long and left the kitchen.
She appeared on the lawn behind the Burrow where a tent had been set up for the festivities. The garden gnomes with their large bald heads were curiously peeking from behind the bushes. They would hastily hide in their holes every time Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-bangs exploded in the air with a loud 'crack'.
A long dining table in the middle was barely big enough to fit all the family - her brothers, their wives and children. The little red-haired girl at the head of the table, the heroine of the occasion, was bright with joy. She kept tugging at her father's sleeve impatiently and Ginny couldn't help smiling.
"Oh, here you are, dear," said Molly as Ginny came in and joined them. "We didn't want to start without you."
She waved her wand and a huge birthday cake, almost a replica of the Pisa Tower, with five tiny candles between luscious cherries appeared before the little girl, who clapped her hands excitedly.
Ginny winced. She wished she could be so blissfully happy.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR KATIE!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
"Make a wish, honey!" George told her.
"But there are too many, daddy!" she exclaimed, eliciting peals of laughter from the Weasleys.
Ginny laughed. Katie was a sweet angel. An adorable freckled girl who inherited her father's looks and his knack for mischief, making him immensely proud. At last the girl made up her mind and blew out the candles.
With a smile on her lips, Ginny gazed around her. A very pregnant Luna on her left was sharing one of her idiosyncratic ideas with Hermione.
"See, if I have a dream about nargles, it means I'll have a girl. But if I dream about crumpled-horned snorcacks, it'll be a boy."
Hermione raised her brows.
"But I wouldn't be dreaming of mistletoe around this time of year, would I?" she went on. "So I'm afraid it'll have to be a boy."
Seeing a pained expression on Ron's face, Ginny laughed heartily and patted him on the back.
"It's all right," she whispered in his ear. "We'll make sure she doesn't dream of either of those."
Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter
And my throat
Is deep with song,
You do not think
I suffer after
I have held my pain so long.
I wish you were here. I never knew what pain truly meant until I lost you. Oh, Merlin, I miss you so much! I thought this pain would subside, but it just gets stronger every day. Endless months of repining and questioning, trying to understand and maybe accept, and here I am - back at square one. Still grieving and hurting. They don't know that and they never will, because it will hurt them too much. They want me to be happy.
"But Molly says you might," Hermione argued. "Trust her, she knows more about it."
"No way! Nuh-uh, not happening!" Luna shook her head.
They were laughing about Luna's large belly, making jokes about the probability of her having twins. Hermione was pregnant too, but she wasn't showing yet. Both of them were glowing, so happy. So complete. So alive.
Why didn't we get a chance? You wanted a little girl with red hair, like mine. You loved my hair. You loved my red Weasley hair. You loved me, like no one ever loved me, and probably no one ever will.
Because my mouth
Is wide with laughter
You do not hear my inner cry
Because my feet
Are gay with dancing
You do not know
I die.
"Ginny? Would you like to dance?" Harry appeared before her and offered her a hand.
"I'd love to," she replied, taking his hand.
He guided her to the lawn and put his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and they started moving slowly to the music coming from the Wireless. Ever since Draco died, Harry had been very protective of her and caring. Knowing very well from his own experience, he suspected that Ginny's wounds were not healed yet. And he did everything to make her feel loved and cherished. It felt so incredibly good, only she wished it was someone else.
"Katie is so spoilt, isn't she?" she whispered, watching her niece tucking in her second slice of the cake.
"She's bound to be. She's one of a very few girls born in the Weasley family and she's adorable."
"Harry, can I be the godmother of your firstborn?" she asked suddenly.
"Of course, Ginny, you needn't even ask," he said, squeezing her hand.
"Thank you," she smiled.
The silence between them resumed, and they just kept moving to the sounds of music. She shut her eyes, so tight that it hurt. She desperately tried to block the image of his grave from her mind. That dreary place. That damned cold place that was bound to be her refuge for the rest of her life, because forgetting was not in her power.
Hic iacet Draco Lucius Malfoy.* Here lies my love. Abiit, non obit.**
She will never forget him. How could she? He was the person who taught her the true meaning of life and love. No matter what happens, she will always remember. She will always cherish the memories. His face will be the first thing on her mind when she wakes up and the last thing when she goes to sleep.
I still live, breathe, laugh, as if I were alive. But I'm dead, just like you are. I'm dead among the living. And no one knows. It is my little secret. First, your place in my life was my secret that I kept from everyone, and now when you're gone, you are still my deepest secret. Ironic, isn't it? I, of all the people, little innocent Ginny - a great pretender. I'm a fraud.
Look at me! I'm so miserable. The image of you haunts me. I just wish you were here. I wish your death wouldn't be another broken promise. My lips are aching to call out your name just once more! And my arms want to embrace you again! If I could just hold you one more time!
Requiescat in pace.***
"Ginny, are you all right?" Harry asked looking into her glazed eyes, that he knew so well, but now failed to recognize, because they belonged to a stranger.
The music ended and she realized that she was still clinging to Harry. And his intent gaze scared her for a moment. Before her eyes revealed something he wasn't supposed to know, she smiled at him, blinking away the unwept tears.
"Of course, I'm all right Harry," she told him.
If I could just…
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* Hic iacet Draco Lucius Malfoy (lat.) - here lies Draco Lucius Malfoy
** Abiit, non obit (lat.) - gone, but not forgotten
*** Requiscat in pace (lat.) - rest in peace