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Simple Motions	By : indira Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Simple Motions : Climax (Possible Chapter)
Author: Indira Neill
Pairings: OliverxPercy, suggested Harry+Ron and Fred+George
Comment: Ok, this was something I wrote because I wanted to kill someone off. I like doing it, deaths are fun to write. There was much debate in my crazy little mind who would it be. Originally I wanted Percy to kill Ron. But I had previously writen a piece where an older brother kills the younger. Then Oliver killing Ron, I didn't like that either. And I absolutely hate suicide. Hate it like burning. Then I had Percy killing Oliver (Percy being the central character obviously could not die, duh) well, in the end I came up with this. If you scratch your head and go 'what the fuck' don't worry, I did too while writing it. Anyway, here's the deal with it. I can either continue along this path, or I can return to the world where this fic almost made sense and didn't quite have a plot. Leave me a little note in the reviews saying either 'go with this' or 'dear lord go back.'

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Simple motions and nothing more.

Innocence crushed by ambition.

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It just had to be you, didn't. You had to be the one to crush the last of my hope. You you you. You ripped it away with your pale innocent hand. You're pale innocent hand and a knife. That's all it took, I thought I was stronger then this. That's all it took to destroy me. Was it intentional? Was it intentional? Did you know? Of course you knew but why. Why why why. You had to do it but why. It was not my life you ruined. Not his. It was your own. Your own and Harry's. You're just a child.

Why why why why.

Where are you now, Ron? Where have you gone to? Why did you? I know who will know. Of course, Harry will know, he knows where you are, why you did it. He'll be the only one forever to know. To know to know to know. Do you know how much you hurt me? But it wasn't only me. You killed four of us with that single blade motion.

Oliver is Dead.

I am Dead.

You are Dead.

Harry is Dead.

And tonight we lay Oliver to rest, consumed by the earth that set him forth upon the world. No one deserves to die so young. And the hand that slay him younger still. I've spent all this time talking to him, but now I am speaking to you Ron. You've killed us all. They never knew, about us, they never will. My secret lingers still longer overshadowed by the secret of Oliver's death. They keep asking me questions, all I can mutter you your name over and over, louder and louder. I want to protect you but from what I do not know.

The funeral. Do you know how many people you've hurt? Of course you do. What a silly question. One motion and his life was over. Fred and George, they have been so quiet since then. I fear they loved him more then they love me. I wonder if all these people would cry at my death. I doubt they would. They would come of course, but they would say something like 'Percy wouldn't want us to cry, he would want us to move on.'

Why can't anyone see that's not the truth?

Penny sits by my side holding my arm, trying to comfort me when I shake. I've been shaking since that night; I can't stop though my face remains fixed in an unreadable expression. Sometimes it's just my hands and other times my entire body. But, I have yet to cry. Perhaps it is the truth. I'm sure they all have questions for me, they've asked me so many already. But not the one they want to ask. They ask the ones to find you, to find a motive, but not the question they are all dying to ask. Simply dying.

I wish they never ask because I will never have a suitable answer. If their simple minds would just think logically and not make excuses they would have their answer. But I know their question because they refuse to see the answer. 'Was Oliver raping you?' Oh they would be more subtle of course but none the less that would be the question. And the answer they are looking for is 'Yes.' Yes, because Ron was just defending his brother. Yes, Oliver brought this on himself. Yes because it explains the tangled bedsheets. Yes, because it explains the blood on my body. Yes, because the perfect prefect couldn't possibly be in love with a man.

No.

My answer is no, now come and ask me. It's because you fear my answer that you do not ask. Ask me you cowards. Curse four of your chosen sons in a single simple word. No.

Sooner or later you'll all know, and there will be no turning back. So turn your backs on us now and we can live in paradise a little longer. This school, a cage for one, a grave for another, forbidden and forgotten. I can no longer speak to the forbidden, though I can forgive him. You, you will never forgive him, will you? Because he has killed. I saw it and I can't take back what I saw.

It will live with me forever. The knife as it came between Oliver and I. Ron, still so innocent standing beside our bed, so angry. The blood fell from the knife and spilled over on to me. It was so red, so bold against my too pale skin. It was warm just like Oliver. I didn't cry. I was too horrified to cry. Oliver just kept trying to breathe, but no air went in. Nothing, it was silent other then three breaths. Then there were only two. Ron's breath so much faster than mine. Oliver's weight tumbled on to me. The sheets and our hands stained in blood of innocence. Before and after, there were three innocent children in that room.

The handle of the knife was so delicate. A dragon molded from the silver metal. I suppose Charlie gave him that knife. A gift from one brother to another, to rip a treasure from the third. I've found my tragedy. My family won't lose track of me anymore. No, because Bill was head boy, Charlie was the Quidditch star, Fred and George were the tricksters, Ron was the murderer. And I, I was the son whom Oliver Wood died inside.

It was such an odd feeling. It was the first time I let him...I let him. And it hurt so much but I didn't want him to stop. I would have told him I'd love him forever at that moment. Weather or not I would have meant it I'll never know. And when he died, still inside me. I felt like I was going to vomit. That's when I began to shake. I haven't stopped since. I lay there in somewhat of a daze and Ron began to run. I wonder if he is still running now. I don't want to to stop. If he stops they'll find him. I don't want anyone to find him except me.

It's not pretty or rational. Life isn't pretty or rational.

We're back in the Burrow now and the twins are in their rooms. Too silent. Ron's room will forever be silent now. I climb the stairs to the top room, still a blaze of orange, gaudy but silent. I lay down on his bed and pull his covers around me, staring at the patch hole ceiling.

I cry for the first time I have left my innocence.
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Simple Motions