|Smichiko (smichiko) wrote in smichifics,|
@ 2008-05-17 05:08:00
|Entry tags:||fandom: hp, ginny weasley, het, rating: pg, zacharias smith, zacharias/ginny|
Rating: PG for character death
Character(s): Ginny Weasley, a small Neville Longbottom appearance and allusions to Zacharias Smith
Summary: Ginny was getting along just fine. Really.
Word Count: 491
A/N: Originally posted February 2007.
Ginny didn't think that something like this should bother her.
So she didn't let it.
Rather than think about it, she pushed it to the back of her mind and resumed her daily routine. (She was used to doing that sort of thing, nowadays - what with people dying left and right.) School and Quidditch, school and Quidditch. Maybe if that's all she thought about, she could keep herself from going insane.
McGonagall had been talking of canceling Quidditch - she'd said as much to the Gryffindor team at their first practice. The only reason it had been allowed to continue (or so Ginny thought) was that she had practically begged McGonagall not to cancel it. They needed it, Ginny told her. Now more than ever; it was something that was comforting in its normalcy, if only for a short while.
At any other time, perhaps, she would never dream of begging for something as silly as Quidditch. (Ginny Weasley did not beg. Well, not normally.) But no Quidditch meant more free time. More free time meant more time for undistracted thinking. And if there was one thing that she was trying to avoid nowadays, it was thinking too much about things that ought to be put off until at least such a time that she could deal with them.
As things were, she knew she couldn't. It was the same reason she didn't read the newspaper anymore. It was the same reason--
Quidditch, she interrupted her thoughts before they could progress any further. That's right, Quidditch. They'd pummeled Hufflepuff yesterday--which wasn't saying much, considering that Hufflepuff barely had enough players for a team, but it reassured her nonetheless. It was comforting to know that she was still good at something--still able to function normally, despite her muddled thoughts.
She turned around to quip at Zacharias (nothing more normal than that) - who, for some reason, always sat directly behind her at the Hufflepuff table (and she always purposefully took an aisle seat...because it was easier to hurl insults at him that way - yes, that was it) - but he wasn't there.
She turned back around and stared at her plate, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Her eyes began to burn; she fought to keep the tears from falling. She could tell that Neville, who was sitting next to her, was purposefully avoiding looking at her. She silently thanked him.
How could she have forgotten that he was dead?
Oh, for Merlin's sake, you didn't even like the boy, she berated herself, wiping her face with resolve. Show some backbone. Besides, you know, he'd only make fun of you if he knew you were crying over him.
At that thought, she snapped to attention. She wouldn't let Zacharias get the better of her, not even in death.
"Lucky bastard," she muttered, shoving a final spoonful of porridge into her mouth before standing up to face the day.