Jezabel

More silence in the early hours of the morning, as the sky turns the pale grey shade of dawn. And for one blissful moment I let myself believe that I am still dreaming...

Light, hurried footsteps grow swift across the scarred plains, barely marking the wet ground beneath. Quick, hasty breaths tore through the fragile body of a young girl, dressed in a simple white shift, her brilliant red hair flaming across her back. Deep red blood stained the white shift. The blood of her lover, brother, enemies, and friends... [During or near the end of 'the war.' Very dark, descriptive, and angsty. Ginny's POV]

It was all she could do to keep from screaming out loud: hold it down; swallow it up like some wretched poison ingested by one’s own will. [Sequel to Rain; Ginny's POV]

Look at what it’s doing to her, what it’s doing to him, he’s your best friend; does he deserve it? Goddamn Harry! Why? Why are you so unwilling to let her go? You know she’ll never really leave you, neither will he. You’re just being selfish and stubborn. They’ll always be there for you, whenever you need them. But things can’t go on the way they are. [Songfic. In answer to all the confused readers of "The Hardest Thing"]

The hardest thing is loving someone who doesn't love you. The hardest thing is loving someone who used to love you. Nothing's fair in love, or war. And words left unsaid are the worst of all...[Hermione's POV]