Harry Potter fic
May. 16th, 2004 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
melwiland another one
Title: An Elaborate Plot
Author: MelWil
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I tried not to break them.
Feedback: lina_wilson@hotmail.com
Summary: She walked away from him and closed the door gently.
~*~
His flat was quiet. Quiet and dark and . . . empty. It felt strange and wrong and made him want to back away, right out the door. But it was all his, his home, and he was here now, and no amount of backing away would be able to reverse what had happened.
She was gone. Her and her robes and the sensible underwear she kept in the left hand side of his top drawer. Her quills had been removed, along with the painted cup that held them. And all her books were gone.
He thought it was a joke. An elaborate plot. Something that Harry and Ginny would be in on, hiding in the wardrobe, waiting for him to say something really foolish so they could pop out and yell 'surprise'. He kept looking around for something that would prove that he was right, and she was wrong, and she really wasn't saying those things. That those words really weren't slipping out of her mouth.
He thought she would change her mind. That she would see his face and see how much she meant to him and that he would try to change, that he would try to be better for her. He thought she would stop, that she wouldn't be able to walk out the door. He thought she would run back to him, fling herself into his arms, promise never to leave him again.
She closed the door gently.
The clock in his living room ticked on.
He left for a few days. Went to stay with his parents. Went to stay with Ginny and her flat mates. Drove everyone around him barmy. He couldn't stop thinking about what she said to him. He couldn't get her voice out of his head.
“I don't love you.”
“We're going in different directions.”
“I can't give up my life for you.”
She sent him a Dear John owl, like breaking up with him in person wasn't enough. She told him that she was leaving him everything they had shared, that she was only taking the things that were hers. Like it mattered terribly.
When he got home, his flat was clean. Clean and quiet and dark, with only the shadows of conversations – of fights – left behind. She was gone.
He didn't think she'd be coming back.
Title: An Elaborate Plot
Author: MelWil
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I tried not to break them.
Feedback: lina_wilson@hotmail.com
Summary: She walked away from him and closed the door gently.
~*~
His flat was quiet. Quiet and dark and . . . empty. It felt strange and wrong and made him want to back away, right out the door. But it was all his, his home, and he was here now, and no amount of backing away would be able to reverse what had happened.
She was gone. Her and her robes and the sensible underwear she kept in the left hand side of his top drawer. Her quills had been removed, along with the painted cup that held them. And all her books were gone.
He thought it was a joke. An elaborate plot. Something that Harry and Ginny would be in on, hiding in the wardrobe, waiting for him to say something really foolish so they could pop out and yell 'surprise'. He kept looking around for something that would prove that he was right, and she was wrong, and she really wasn't saying those things. That those words really weren't slipping out of her mouth.
He thought she would change her mind. That she would see his face and see how much she meant to him and that he would try to change, that he would try to be better for her. He thought she would stop, that she wouldn't be able to walk out the door. He thought she would run back to him, fling herself into his arms, promise never to leave him again.
She closed the door gently.
The clock in his living room ticked on.
He left for a few days. Went to stay with his parents. Went to stay with Ginny and her flat mates. Drove everyone around him barmy. He couldn't stop thinking about what she said to him. He couldn't get her voice out of his head.
“I don't love you.”
“We're going in different directions.”
“I can't give up my life for you.”
She sent him a Dear John owl, like breaking up with him in person wasn't enough. She told him that she was leaving him everything they had shared, that she was only taking the things that were hers. Like it mattered terribly.
When he got home, his flat was clean. Clean and quiet and dark, with only the shadows of conversations – of fights – left behind. She was gone.
He didn't think she'd be coming back.
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no subject
on 2004-05-16 03:26 pm (UTC)Pre-Tearstains snippet?
no subject
on 2004-05-16 03:42 pm (UTC)