Soul Mates

Harry Potter is your soul mate.

The lady. The lady in the shawl, the lady that lived in the woods with those amber eyes had told you so. Her frail hands had held yours as she whispered to you that indeed, he was your soul mate.

Forever, you would be bound together.

Forever. Isn’t that a long time?

Where was he now, you wondered. The last time you have seen him had been a fortnight ago.

He is gone.

And the voice whispered to you—nothing but the passing wind to the ignorant ears of others, but a rush of unadulterated truth to yours.

He wasn’t. He wasn’t gone, because how could he be your soul mate if he had perished from the face of this earth? Surely the lady with the amber eyes hadn’t meant for you to love a memory?

But Tom.

Yes, you remembered Tom. How you had been only a child, but you felt the pounding lust resonating deep within you as your sweaty clothes clung to you as your nails dug into your skin as you screamed his name in pleasure and as he kissed you feverishly, impatiently and how that one special night, he had taken your innocence.

How you would wake up, and perhaps it had only been a dream, save the dark bruises upon your pale skin.

He was your savior?

And when Harry Potter saved you, sword glinting in the light as it struck through the snake, you thought you had seen it all, how he had defeated Tom and how he had saved you from him.

You denied the fact that there was no spell, no curse that bound you to Tom, you denied the fact that you desired him willingly, helplessly, denied all of it because you could, once Harry Potter came, and no one would accuse you of anything else.

And now you wish for him to return again so you can go back to pretending to love him so you can go back to lying and go back to being his soul mate.

Even

Even though you saw all of it, you saw him fall, you saw his body smoldered in blood, saw the glint of the silver sword as it pierced into his heart, and you heard the earth-shattering scream as he fell to the ground, splattering the green grass with crimson color.

You are a liar.

Deceiver.

And the lady in the woods, the lady with the amber eyes, she lied too, because Harry Potter is not your soul mate, because you can’t keep on lying, because you don’t love him, because there is no such thing as soul mates or fate or destiny.

You are my soul mate.

And when you’ve nothing left to hide behind because everything is simply gone, you can’t blind the truth, you can’t cover your ears and run because your legs won’t carry you, because you’ve

Nothing

Left.

Scary, isn’t it?

You don’t know whom you’re supposed to love, you don’t know where you’re supposed to go or how you’re supposed to live life

But admit it

You’ve loved Tom

You’ve loved the dark

I kissed you feverishly too, impatiently, forcefully, until you screamed and I saw the satisfying bruises on your beautifully pale skin, and you were all mine and you loved it, and you told me so through your tears because you felt

Alive.

You’re a sick, twisted, demented mind and you love the dark and the pain and that’s why you came to me because if you come to me, you can feel the pain again and tell yourself that you are

living the Truth.

But are you, Ginny Weasley?

Are you?