Mind Battles

Ginny Weasley walked into the over-crowded, over-heated room. People buzzing around, still alright, all looking grim but determined to get through the next little while. She walked past half the people without even a glance, her head held high as it always was. She sat down next to her father, with her mother on the other side of him. The rest of their family was sitting all around, next to, ahead of and behind them. Frowning, looking grave, slightly ill, or just helpless.

That was exactly how she felt. Helpless. At lunch that day, she had run off to the bathroom to cry. One of the first times since she arrived. There was so much more to Ginny Weasley than one saw. She was strong, she was brave and determined, she was proud. Of everything, this was a true test of strength. So there she was, in a town she had only associated with good memories, a town she felt familiar beyond reason with, now a barren wasteland of empty dreams.

As she sat down in that chair, she felt dizzy. She felt ridiculous, because this wasn't really happening. This was just a dream. Wasn't it? Just a mockery of her worst nightmares? Just a dream... from which she would never awaken.

'To stand on the edge of the knife

Cutting through the nightmare from which

I just cannot awaken

Stand on the edge of the night

Living inside a moment

From which I will never awaken'

How true those words seemed as she shifted in her seat. Anxiety, apprehension, impatience? She didn't know how she felt. Quite detached, really, and hoping that detachment would help her get through this. This was the final battle. Fuck all else. The grief had come to her in the form of a sharp hole ripped into her stomach. She felt emptier than she had ever felt. She was torn, ripped away in what could be considered one of her worst fears.

Why is it that the worst ones are always the ones that come true?

She watched with bleary eyes as the man in front of her spoke, and as people in turn also spoke. She cried when, someone she did not know but felt she should, could not hold back the tears either. Trying to speak, failing, for the words were a reflection on the pain itself. How one could feel this way, Ginny didn't know. She didn't. She couldn't feel, or speak, or see anything beyond the tears in her eyes and the catch in her throat. She was choking on her grief, surely she would die from it as well?

A catch in my throat, choke,

Torn into pieces

I won't, no...

I don't wanna be this

But I won't let this build up inside of me

The hurt and the pain and everything she was missing now, in this single moment, every single shred of hope for a future shattered, every thought of what could have been resting in her heart, threatening to destroy her. All of it, too much, and sobbing she didn't even care what was being said, crying she was not even listening. Watching her strong grandfather, who had never, ever cried or hardly shown emotion in her presence, seeing him, sweating. He was always sweaty, he had high blood pressure and it was so hot out today, even she was sweating. He was sweating, beads of water dripping down his face.

She looked closely, and as she noticed a single drop sliding along the crinkles beside his eyes, she knew he had shown the first emotion in front of her, ever, and the strength she always drew from him crumbled away. She cried harder than ever, mourning, feeling nothing but pain and wanting nothing in addition to the end. Wanting to know just what there is past this hollow existence, this nothing. Feeling nothing, seeing nothing, being nothing.

Just alone, as she said goodbye to her brother forever.