( currently under polishing, multiple chapters in the works )
|| 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 • ginny weasley ||
|| Ginny Weasley x fem!oc ||
|| Summery;||
IN WHICH GINNY WEASLEY DANCES WITH AMORA NOTT AND CANT GET THE NOTT FAMILY HEIR OUT OF HER HEAD.
|| achievem...
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Acatalepsy (noun) the idea that it is impossible to truly comprehend anything.
Amora January 20th 1998 When Amora was small her parents wouldn't let her outside of the house for the life of her. It was always, breakfast at 6:00 am sharp or you don't eat, lunch at 12:30 pm sharp or you don't eat, dueling at 4:00 sharp or Lyra dragged you there herself, and finally, supper at 6:00 pm sharp, than lights out at 8. Because of this, Amora was used to staying in a house for the entire day. She was used to drawing on napkins she could snag from the kitchen and counting all of the corners in the manor.
Ginny on the other hand did not fair so well. It had only been a week or so and Amora could tell all she wanted to do was go back to hogwarts.
Hogwarts, a place where she could go and fly whenever she wanted, take walks and see anybody at nearly any time. With Remus and Tonks leaving to other safe houses to give whatever they could and more Ginny and Amora had been left on house arrest. Amora knew she wasn't dealing the best with her magic but she knew Ginny had unhealed wounds aswell.
Generally it's said that when depression first hits your sense of time is the first to go, you stare at the wall when you wake up so long your life had passed you by.
As Ginny and Amora stayed in their tiny bubble of old books and oversized band tees she'd felt sometimes the world behind them was sped up.
Or maybe they were just in slow motion.
You see,
Ginny wasn't there during the war, not really. Her eyes would shut off and she's just stare. She was vacant, her touch empty. She wasn't the same as she'd been in hogwarts, she was still lively, of course, but she wasn't quite the girl who taught her how to cast the patronus charm.
Amora wanted to rip the pain the pain out of her hands, tell her it's be okay. She knew that was unwise, because nobody would believe that.
Sometimes she'd walk outside and just find Ginny laying in the grass, gazing up at the empty sky above her. She'd have flowers in her hair, leaves, vines, and plants surrounding her. But she was never there. Not really.
But neither of them were ever really there were they?
Someday she hoped they'd compare pain, one day she hoped she would be able to let Ginny in. Maybe if she did she could see the world through her eyes, and through those eyes she could see her own pain.
And Ginny could see hers.
Maybe then they'd feel less isolated, maybe then the apocalypse would come to a close.
