One Day

One Day

A/N: This angsty little piece popped into my head and I offer it as an apology for not being able to update “A Common Cure.” I will try to work on it this weekend but I can make no guarantees. Thanks for your patience. Cheers!

(Also, this is rated PG13 for the thematic elements more than anything else.)

______________________________________

He would wake up screaming and call to her because he forgot she was dead. In those infinitesimal seconds between oblivion and consciousness, he could still imagine her rushing into his room to comfort him. And she wouldn’t look like some pale ghost or a transparent dream. No, it would be her. Warm flesh and blood, though so many people had said she was cold. Ice-cold. But no, he was merely ice-cold, shivering in the white hospital room with the scratchy blanket tangled about his knees.

But then Ginny was there. And she would quiet him with soothing sounds and pull the blanket up to his chin again. And she would brush his white blond hair from his weary eyes and watch the tension leave his face until he was asleep once more. Then she would settle back in her seat beside his bed because one day, one day he would be okay.

And he would remember everything too. Not just his mother’s death. But her. He would remember her and the vow he made. The ring on his finger. And the child growing inside of her. And though he was never awake when she took his left hand and placed it on the bump on her belly, he would be. One day.

________________________________________

The ambiguity has caused some confusion before. Just to clarify, the first paragraph refers to Narcissa. Ginny is alive and well. Er, she’s alive at least. And that’s it folks. Thanks for R&R!