Challange
Title: Maybe
Author: me
Rating: PG--for teh kiss *legasp*
Ship: Luna/Ginny
Warnings: mention of character death, slashy fun
****
It was silent in the yard, the birds seemingly mourning the importance of the day with the same solemn attitude of those who had been involved. It was nothing to see the sunrise that morning, nothing to see the bright, burning cobalt of the sky. The war had been won, but the lives had been lost, and no amount of fame would bring them back. Ginny walked barefooted over the dew-damp grass, her tiny feet leaving little impression on the grass, which merely sprang back to its usual place. Of course she left no imprint; her power had disappeared with her lover and his enemy. It was easier to forget the heroes of the war than to remember an unfortunate blip in history, and she had huddled herself away in her large house, avoiding the eye of the media. They had soon forgotten her. Her elder brothers continued to relish in the fame, but they too felt it waning after a year of victory celebrations. There just didn’t seem to be much to celebrate anymore.
Her footsteps lead her to a small, shaded area of the grounds, where another woman already stood, her dirty blonde, waist length hair tied in an elaborate, untidy knot at the back of her head. She held a bouquet of dark red flowers in her hands, which resembled radishes more than flowers. Ginny smiled at her, brushing a strand of her own short red hair from her face. It had been as long as Luna’s, once upon a time, but fighting with long hair had proved a problem, and now it was habit more than anything that kept her fiery hair short and spiked.
Speaking no words, Ginny set down her own bunch of yellow roses on a small patch of gravel, looking sadly at the headstone, a few stray tears trickling down her pale freckled cheeks. Nothing would be the same, no matter how many times the Prophet said otherwise. She turned back to Luna, who was smiling serenely. “Thank you for coming, Luna,” she whispered, moving towards the other woman who had set the flowers down beside the others, forming a floral arrangement in the colours of his house and everything he had stood for: Gryffindor.
“Of course,” she said, her voice gentle and soothing. She moved her hand forwards and brushed a tear from Ginny’s face. “No need to cry; he’s happier now. He’s with his mother. Mother’s make you feel much better, always.” Ginny nodded, fighting back the tears. Luna moved forwards and embraced her, kissing her softly on the lips.
“At least we have each other. Poor Harry; he has no one. Hermione’s dead, and Ron’s still in the coma. At least we have each other, and at least Neville has his mother.”
Ginny gave a small nod, turning away from the grave and walking back towards her house, her hand around Luna’s. Maybe nothing would be the same, but perhaps different wasn’t so bad, after all.
*****
MEHHHHHH, it's not great, but I dunno...I had to rid myself of the plot bunny. Telleth me what thou thinkethst.
Author: me
Rating: PG--for teh kiss *legasp*
Ship: Luna/Ginny
Warnings: mention of character death, slashy fun
****
It was silent in the yard, the birds seemingly mourning the importance of the day with the same solemn attitude of those who had been involved. It was nothing to see the sunrise that morning, nothing to see the bright, burning cobalt of the sky. The war had been won, but the lives had been lost, and no amount of fame would bring them back. Ginny walked barefooted over the dew-damp grass, her tiny feet leaving little impression on the grass, which merely sprang back to its usual place. Of course she left no imprint; her power had disappeared with her lover and his enemy. It was easier to forget the heroes of the war than to remember an unfortunate blip in history, and she had huddled herself away in her large house, avoiding the eye of the media. They had soon forgotten her. Her elder brothers continued to relish in the fame, but they too felt it waning after a year of victory celebrations. There just didn’t seem to be much to celebrate anymore.
Her footsteps lead her to a small, shaded area of the grounds, where another woman already stood, her dirty blonde, waist length hair tied in an elaborate, untidy knot at the back of her head. She held a bouquet of dark red flowers in her hands, which resembled radishes more than flowers. Ginny smiled at her, brushing a strand of her own short red hair from her face. It had been as long as Luna’s, once upon a time, but fighting with long hair had proved a problem, and now it was habit more than anything that kept her fiery hair short and spiked.
Speaking no words, Ginny set down her own bunch of yellow roses on a small patch of gravel, looking sadly at the headstone, a few stray tears trickling down her pale freckled cheeks. Nothing would be the same, no matter how many times the Prophet said otherwise. She turned back to Luna, who was smiling serenely. “Thank you for coming, Luna,” she whispered, moving towards the other woman who had set the flowers down beside the others, forming a floral arrangement in the colours of his house and everything he had stood for: Gryffindor.
“Of course,” she said, her voice gentle and soothing. She moved her hand forwards and brushed a tear from Ginny’s face. “No need to cry; he’s happier now. He’s with his mother. Mother’s make you feel much better, always.” Ginny nodded, fighting back the tears. Luna moved forwards and embraced her, kissing her softly on the lips.
“At least we have each other. Poor Harry; he has no one. Hermione’s dead, and Ron’s still in the coma. At least we have each other, and at least Neville has his mother.”
Ginny gave a small nod, turning away from the grave and walking back towards her house, her hand around Luna’s. Maybe nothing would be the same, but perhaps different wasn’t so bad, after all.
*****
MEHHHHHH, it's not great, but I dunno...I had to rid myself of the plot bunny. Telleth me what thou thinkethst.