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28 July 2005 @ 10:33 pm
 
Title: Dying Rose
Rating: R
Word Count: 638
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: Um, sort of dark. Well, pretty dark. yes o_O

--

Drawn by a thousand shimmering threads she treads the lines that feel like home. The clouds roil and the whole sky roars above her, threatens to engulf her, but she just brushes tangled and gaudy threads of hair out of her eyes and pushes on, on through the knee-high heather and gorse that smells like home. A buzzard calls its warning over the wind and she hears but does not heed, and she splashes through the brook that gurgles and sounds like home.

At the top of the rise she pauses and squints through the mist. She hadn’t noticed in the climb but now the ruined castle rises through the swirling damp before her and with its reaching turrets and beady-eyed glass windows peering through the haze it looks like home. The gates hang immobile and helpless on rusted and broken hinges, and she walks up to the great oak doors to find them flung open and the deserted Entrance Hall littered with leaves and rose petals. Lifting a petal to her cheek it’s soft and cold and feels like velvety fingertips on her cheek. The petals lead her up the marble staircase, dirty and dusty but majestic nonetheless. Her trail of breadcrumbs leads her onwards and she checks often, but the petals still lie soft and unassuming in her wake.

His voice is soft on her ears when she reaches the tower and his lip curls cruelly as he mutters her name. Ginny, oh Ginny. Her limbs are trembling and where his fingers brush her cheek they’re petal-soft. Why, Ginny? Why did you come back? His lips on her throat are soft but his teeth are sharp and demanding and his mouth doesn’t taste of home any more.

I don’t know. Headless rose stalks litter the stones around their feet and whisper to her with broken voices, speak to her of death and mutilation and she closes her eyes to feel him once more. She’s had enough of death and she’s had enough of being alone, and so when he pushes her back against the rough wall that rips her skin she doesn’t say no, just wonders what happened to her soft kind Harry. She wonders if he died the day Ron and Hermione did.

So beautiful. He lifts her up, pushing his thigh between hers and pulling them roughly apart. Like a beautiful rose, Ginny. She lets her eyes fall shut again and she’s full of him and for a moment nothing in the world matters, but then she’s back at the top of a cold windswept tower being fucked against a rough mouldering wall by a man with empty green eyes. Like bottles. She used to collect them as a child, lining them along her windowsill so they caught the light in the morning and threw coloured lines across her white bed sheet.

Ginny. He’s shuddering and her name is on his lips. She kisses it away quickly. She wants to keep something for herself.

He leaves her trembling and shivering on the floor and he drops to his hands and knees, lifting each withered stalk and examining it carefully. Finally he finds a stalk bearing a single thorn which he drags absently across the back of his palm. Seemingly satisfied, he holds his hand out to her, offering her the dead flower, and when she takes it he smiles and pushes her away, back to the staircase, away from him.

Go. His voice is hoarse now, broken, empty. Before I kill you too.

Her footsteps are light as she skips down the stairs, and the petals at her feet dance in the quick-shifting train of her robes. At the door she pauses once more and lays the dead stalk across the entranceway. She doesn’t cry until she’s far away and all alone once more.
 
 
 
たとえ離れても 心はそばにいるよ: femmeslashhappiestwhen on July 28th, 2005 09:56 pm (UTC)
Oh, very lovely and lyrical. The darkness is almost gothic, and there's a great sort of slow pace to this, almost surreal.

This line especially: Like bottles. She used to collect them as a child, lining them along her windowsill so they caught the light in the morning and threw coloured lines across her white bed sheet. So poetic. This whole thing is so rich with imagery.

Gorgeous, and I really hate this pairing too... but you make it seem lovely. ♥
sazzlette on July 28th, 2005 10:16 pm (UTC)
Whee, thank you so much :3

I'm glad you enjoyed it despite the pairing. I really don't like it either - hence 'antiships' but actually writing this wasn't so bad after all *grins*
AmethystPhoenix: dracocolours by miintsaphoenix2007 on July 29th, 2005 01:27 pm (UTC)
Wow. The imagery was brilliant...

I liked it very much. It's dark, and very well done.

Excellent job; glad you could get this out. :)
sazzlette on July 29th, 2005 01:31 pm (UTC)
Hee, thank you very much. I was surprised that I actually enjoyed writing it. I guess it's the way you write something like this rather than who you write that makes it worthwhile :]