Scarlet

Under the Moon, Beyond the Dream

The paralysis that spread through her body like an intravenous drug was sufficient to alert her to yet another nightmare that she would be living for longer than necessary. The blood that floated in front of her eyes felt warmer than the blood running through her veins, and she desperately hoped that this rollercoaster would end soon.
Even when unconscious, Ginny Weasley could sense how her body was fidgeting as the dream descended upon her like a stairway not from heaven. Her skin tingled, her closed eyes burnt with unshed tears, and the scene unfolding for her showed a vivid memory that she hoped never belonged to her in the first place.
She was back in the Chamber of Secrets, and this time she felt him slip through her fingers. That sensation was enough to jerk her awake as she lay in bed, panting and staring at the dark ceiling. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to talk herself out of screaming in frustration. How many years has it been? Three? Four? And yet, that hollowed pit of a Chamber would not leave her alone, as if she never left its premises... As if she is still captive, not in control of herself, ready to spell out another awful message by dipping her slender fingers in blood. Her heart threatened to speak for her, to scream for her. And yet, no sound came out for deaf ears.
Ginny sat upright, almost causing a crick in her neck. The long curtain of her red hair shining against the sheen of moonlight reminded her of an angry scarlet fire. It must be the early hours of morn, dawn approaching as she attempted to catch her breath. Beside her, Hermione was fast asleep, unaware of the way Ginny's heart skipped faster than Hogwarts Express.
She could not unsee the look on his face as he fell to his death, and something inside of her began to unravel.
It is only because he is a good friend, she told herself.
It has been quite a year, which is why the dreams have returned with a new plot twist.
Nothing else.
Seeing the bespectacled boy with shabby black hair and eyes that always reminded Ginny of a silent, calm, unprovoked meadow had nothing to do with anything else. They survived the battle at the Ministry with a close call, which is why her unconscious mind has resumed to haunt her. Yes, that must be it.
Hermione tossed in her sleep, mumbling something incoherently. The silence outside almost felt like the calm before the storm, which it probably was. Ginny was positive that going back to sleep immediately is not an option. No sleep would be sleepy enough to descend upon a mind so wide awake from panic. So, she did the next best thing; she slithered out of bed, smoothed her robe over her now-grown body, and traipsed away from the confines of her room, trying her best to avoid the steps that creaked the loudest.
Amidst the silence of a rather quiet night, Ginny could hear the lingers of manly snores. As she slowly descended the clumsy stairs of The Burrow, she prayed that Mum was not awake. The Wizarding World has been swooning under a rather dark cloud ever since the return of Voldemort. Yes, she could say the name but never had the nerves to repeat them in front of others. She felt that even if she did, she would just be a murmuring fly trying to buzz its way through a giant swarm of bees; the insignificance she sometimes felt as the youngest one under the roof tormented her to no ends.
Which is why sneaking out of the house when the rest of the "elders" slept and being out there without any protection were her tiny ways of being an amateur rebel.
Of course, she was not expecting company when she managed to successfully step out under the sky yet another time. She was expecting solace, solitude, and a space for herself. But what she found was an unannounced company in the form of a silhouette staring into the distance, its head fixated at an angle that reached the moon. Ginny followed the gaze and found peace in the subtle yet powerful view. At this moment, they were looking at the same thing and nothing else would draw the line of intimacy for her.

"We weren't expecting you until morning." She heard herself speak, which made him whip around in alarm. Ginny raised her palms to calm him down. "Hello to you too, Harry."

"Ginny." He gulped. "Hi."

"When did you get here?"

"Couple of hours ago. Couldn't really sleep."