#the graveyard fence

[brightlybound]

Something After This

(Oof, ouch. I'm angsty as of late.)

for @hinnymicrofic prompt 10 for May: flower(s)

It’s the first Sunday in June, hot, overcast, miserable. Doesn’t help that her view is of the graveyard, of Fred’s headstone covered in multicolored flowers. Ginny thinks it’s rather obnoxious, kind of perfect, miserable.

She gazes up at Harry, standing in stoic silence beside her.

“Do you… do you think there’s Something?” she asks him, voice stilted and rough. “Something after this?”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, and he turns to her with this look in his eyes, one Ginny reads as uncertain, miserable.

Everything is fucking miserable.

“You know what?” says Ginny, staring back down at the stupid, miserable ground her brother is buried beneath. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

Harry takes a shuddering breath, and–

“Ginny?” calls Mum from the churchyard gate. “Harry?”

Ginny pivots, ready to leave this miserable place behind as soon as possible, her head feeling a bit like it’s stuffed, her eyes beginning to sting, but Harry catches her by the elbow, holding her back. A part of her wants to pull away, but the fight has left her completely...

“We’ll meet you back at the Burrow if that’s alright,” he says, statement more than question, towards her family waiting for them on the main path to and from the village church.

Ginny keeps her focus on the ground, rich brown soil and manicured green grass all a blur.

“Not too long now,” Dad calls back, a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

Fleur’s reassuring voice chimes in, “Harry weel take care of her.”

Ginny waits until they’re out of earshot, then beats him to the punch, peering up at him as she wipes at her cheeks with the sleeves of her miserable black robes.

“You died, didn’t you?”

Harry blanches, glancing over her shoulder before meeting her gaze again, and the little sunlight they’re awarded with today glints off the rim of his glasses. “I might have a bit, yeah.”

She snorts, an ugly, wet sound, and she wonders how he’s put up with her, how he’s stuck by her side these past few weeks; she has been nothing but a wretched, miserable thing.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you possibly apologizing for?” cries Ginny.

Harry’s mouth twists around the words. “Not quite sure. Everything?”

“You selfless, stupid, noble prat, for Merlin’s sake–”

He’s absolutely deranged, and apparently, so is she, because she grabs a fistful of his robes and yanks him to her, and it doesn’t matter that their second first kiss is in a miserable graveyard, witnessed by the dead, on bloody, sacred ground. Harry is in her lungs again, filling her up again, lips gentle and warm and very much alive. There is not a single ounce of misery in this. Insanity? Sure. But this is her Something, after the war.

Ginny’s going to seize it.

[amygdalae]

I follow a lot of gothic art and aesthetic blogs (and have for awhile) and it's at the point where I'll have a sentimental association with like. Oh there's that gif of a dark ornate chandelier I've been seeing cross my dash since I was a teenager. Sure she can go in the queue again for old times sake

[webdiggerxxx]

꧁★꧂

[scoutingthetrooper]

x

[interdimentional]

[no-side-us]

Pumpkin Witch cause its October

[grungeouttakesabstracts]

Roadside cemetery, October

Calais, Vermont -- 10/9/03

[frachive]

graves flares

[elizjjwold]

by Elizabeth Johnson-Wold

[idisaestheticblog]

[7delus]

Graveyard

[cgclarkphoto]

graveyard beyond the fence -  cg photography

[auntieblues]

“There’s something special about visiting a graveyard. Both life and death meet together in time.” ― Eric Overby

original auntieblues

[mothmiso]

Wales (2) (3) (4) by Mark

Via Flickr:

(1) Snowdon Ranger Path (3) Portmeiron     

[interdimentional]

[eriexplosion]

As a teen I actually did live in a place rural enough that I had to drive 20 minutes to go stand in a parking lot with my friends. The gathering place for teens in the other town I could drive twenty minutes to stand around in was also a parking lot. Some boys branded themselves over there once.