It's fall here, always fall. The sun never shines. The tombstones are never warm. The wind whispers in my ear, enters my body, and blows around where my heart used to be. I feel lost and waiting. Hollow. Something is going to happen in this necropolis. Something terrible. Something wonderful. I have this sense of déjà vu. That this never ends but just keeps happening again and again. The wind that has been blowing constantly gusts and the leaves whip by me. Red, yellow and orange, on their way to who knows where.
For a moment I can't see what's in front of me. When it dies down I see that the wind has a friend. It concealed him from me. A big dog, thin as a whip. Thick fur a dark gray with a white chest and blue eyes. I am drawn to the eyes. Faded blue, as if they had been worn down. For a while I stare into his eyes. There is this feeling of separation between us. A wall of glass. For a moment, I am not sure which side of the glass I am on. But then the wall disappears. I know who I am again. I know that I am meant to follow where he leads. I want to feel fear. I want to feel rebellion. Instead I feel nothing. I will go where I am led.
The dog turns and walks away and I follow. I know that I don't want to go where he leads. I know that I want nothing more than to follow. I have been here so many times before. As we walk, I read the tombstones. I know the names by heart. They are burned into my memory by now. Smith, Hayes, Pennington. So many residents of this city for the dead. Though I have never done it, I know that I could stop by any of them and wait. They would tell me their gossip. Their lives. Their deaths. That's what this place is about after all. Death.
I don't stop. I know where I am being led. I don't care about their gossip, lives, or deaths. I just want to get where we are going. But it is a big city, this necropolis. Bigger than London, Paris and New York put together. For this is not a place for dead people. This is where dead dreams come to be buried. The hopes of the world lie beneath me, dust. And my guide leads me where my greatest hope and dream lies buried.
There is no sense of having arrived. The sojourn of years that it took to get here leaves no impression. After all, it doesn't look any different than any other spot here. It's still not sunny, the wind still blows, and it's still cold. But we are here. Ginny Weasley is still on this stone, and below is my beloved. My Harry, dust. Our lives together, dust. The children we might have had, dust. But still I smile. I smile as the tears flow down my cheeks, because I know that if I stand still, he will talk to me. Tell me about our house that we never had. How hard a day he had at the office for the job that he never had. How glad he is to see me, even though he can't. He will greet the children we never had. And hug them. And I can hear an echo of what might have been.
It is the only feeling I have anymore. This bittersweet pain that rips up what is left of me. I hate it and I know that Harry would not want this for me. But it is all I have anymore. In time I might have something else. But not now. Now all I have, all I want, is this. The hurt. The taste of ashes in my mouth. It is all I have of him right now. The pain of loss blocks out everything else.
I wait, but he doesn't speak. The sense of déjà vu has left me. Now I feel something. Fear. I fear that it is over. That I am not welcome here anymore. That my dream wishes to rest in peace. It's not fair! It's my dream! All I have left of a future forever denied! I want to rage at the tombstone. I want to break it open and draw the dream out. But as I reach for my wand the dog bites the sleeve of my sweater and pulls my hand away. I search his eyes and see what he wants of me. Wait. Watch. Listen.
As he backs away from me the wind gusts again. And the leaves whip by me. Red, yellow and orange, on their way to who knows where.
When the leaves pass I see that my guide has gone. I look around the graveyard, remembering that I am supposed to watch and listen. And wait. I wait for an eternity in the few minutes it took for the wait to be over. And then I see him.
My Harry is walking to me from the trees. He is dressed in second hand jeans and a t-shirt that is several sizes to big for him. As the wind blows the t-shirt against him I can see how thin he is. And his perpetually messy hair is blown into even greater disarray. And I finally feel something else. Joy. Joy such as I have never known.
I run to him. I want to feel his arms around me again. The warmth that this place is missing will be found in his arms. And the clouds will finally be blown away. And the sun will shine as we kiss. I know it!
As I reach him I open my arms to him. But there is nothing to hold onto. I pass right through him. And I am cold, the wind is still blowing and the clouds still hide the sun.
Though I can't feel them, I know that he has placed his hands on my shoulders. That he doesn't want me to turn and look at him just yet.
“Dreams have no substance for you to hug, Ginny,” he says. There is a sadness to his voice, as if he didn't want to tell me what I already knew. But he had to begin somewhere. I nod to show that I understand now. I want to stop him. Tell him not to go on. I know what is coming. Because I know him. Him and his stupid nobility. But in the end I cannot. I am here to listen.
“I have something to show you.”
“What is it, my love?”
“Loss. A greater loss than you know of. Follow me.”
Once again I follow. I follow for days into weeks and through a month. I follow and see stones with names I don't know in languages I can't read. Some are new, and some are old. Some are ancient. Others are evil. The dead dreams of evil people who wanted to hurt the world for daring to be happy, despite their pain. More of these now. A whole neighborhood of them. They don't wait for you to stop but scream at you of their deaths and of the vengeance they longed to wreak upon the world.
Finally we pass these disturbing dreams. Looking neither left nor right, Harry walks on. Though there is no path here, he walks with a purpose now that he didn't have before. I know that we are near our destination.
Finally we stop before a small stone set into the ground. As I look around I see that these stones are everywhere. There isn't a single one that sticks up out of the ground. The stone is blank. He has taken me to where new dreams will be buried. Dreams that have not died yet.
As I wait and watch, a name appears on the stone. The stone rises up out of the ground to look just like all the others. And I wait. Something is going to happen. Something terrible. Something wonderful.
Then I hear it. The dream. It tells me it's sad tale. The tale of a life that was not lived. Of life evaded. It tells me of waiting for things to happen that would make it come true. Events that never came to pass.
When it finished, Harry spoke.
“This is where the dreams of those who wait are buried. Those who wait for the world to hand them these dreams; those who wait for the circumstances to be right so that they can have these dreams. They wait all their lives for what is buried here. And they never get them. The happiness that could have been lies beneath you, now dust.
“Your name is going to be on one of these one day, Ginny. Maybe you lost your dream of a life with me, but as you found out when you tried to hug me, a dream has no substance. Especially a dead one. Only life has what you want. Your other dreams are languishing; they are sick and dying. Care for them as you do for me. Bring them back. Do not let them become like me.”
“But it is you I want! You are the one I want more than any of the others! I would let them all lie here, dust, if only I could have you.”
Harry smiled at me then. In the face of my grief, he smiled at me.
“Do you really want a dream? Or do you want what is real? Can you give up on your dreams of starting a family? I was never anything but a possibility. Go and find what is real.”
The wind gusts again. And the leaves whip by me. Red, yellow and orange, on their way to who knows where.
Red, Yellow, and Orange by TheMadMugggle
Chapter Notes: This one haunted me for weeks. After several bad starts the story below came to me. I hope you enjoy it.
General Disclaimer: I do not own the charaters of this story. JK Rowling does.