Author's Note: This is my first time posting on this site so just tell me what you think! Review if you like it! Thanks go to my beta, Lyndsie Fenele.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, settings, and terms belong to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. I am only using them for my own twisted fun. The characters will be returned relatively unharmed. The poem in the story is mine.

~*~*~*~ Tears ~*~*~*~

Two tear drops fell onto the newspaper in her shaking hands.

If I could trade one wish
For every tear I ever shed.

It felt like she had been crying for days, and looking back, she knew that she had. Every morning she woke up with crusty eyes. As she showered, her tears got lost in the spray of the water. The rest of the day passed and she managed to look happy and content, to forget about him and her grief. And every night, she cried herself back to sleep. She had lived this way without anyone knowing since he had left her.

Ginny wished she could stop crying.

I think I’d have more wishes
Than good words I ever said.

She stared at the picture of the newly wedded couple with disdain, a slowly pounding ache growing in her heart. The headline of the article read in large bold letters, “MALFOY HEIR AND PARKINSON DAUGHTER WED.” If she thought looking at the paper again would make her feel any better and stop the tears from falling, she was sorely mistaken. The tears fell faster and harder—too fast to just wipe away and too hard to try.

He had promised her. He told her they would run away and elope; to escape the fate that was destined to him since he was a toddler. But something had changed, and here he was on the cover of the Daily Prophet. Married. And not to her.

If tears were made of diamonds,
And your promises of gold.

It was too late for them. She’d told him that if he married Pansy Parkinson, she would want nothing to do with him anymore.

She refused to be anyone’s mistress.

Then he got married and was truly lost to her.

Would you think of coming back?
For me to have? To love? To hold?

It didn’t matter anymore that she loved him. He had deserted her when he promised he never would—when she needed him the most. He had his own life now, with his wife. She was left alone to deal with her problem.

But my tears are only tears,
Made of water and some salt.

No amount of tears could ever change what he’d done to her or how he had abandoned her. Nothing could change this marriage or her problem.

There is no magic in my sadness
And I know it’s not your fault.

Ginny placed a gentle hand on her swollen stomach. No one knew who the father was and she preferred not to tell them. When her brother had found out about the pregnancy, he had been ready to find the bastard that had left her to deal with a baby on her own, and rip him apart. Good old Ron. He didn’t judge her as quickly as most. Even her parents had refused to have anything to do with her and kicked her out of the Burrow. Hermione then offered to share her flat and she accepted. But as soon as her daughter was born, Ginny fully intended to find her own place to live. The last thing she wanted was for her and her child to become a burden for anyone.

I wasn’t worth your time
But you shied away from blame.

The last time Ginny had seen Draco was the day before his wedding. She had gone to beg him—she was heartsick and desperate or she never would have done it—to back out of the wedding, to elope with her as planned. To have their baby and start their family together.

Draco had straightened his robes imperiously, looked at her coolly, and said simply that he couldn’t and it wasn’t that easy. He offered to send her money regularly, but she refused it and stormed from his home in a cloud of hurt rage.

She thought he was afraid to take responsibility for his actions, even though Ginny now had to live with the consequences of those actions.

Responsible was just a word
It clearly was not your name.

More tears fell onto the newspaper, this time falling on the image of the grim groom and the happy bride.

Pansy had finally caught and caged her dragon.

Ginny closed the Daily Prophet in self-disgust of her weakness. When the baby was born, she planned to either leave the country or live amongst the Muggles until the child was old enough to return.

Even if “old enough” meant the year she would go to Hogwarts. Ginny wanted to keep her daughter—and herself—as far away from the father as possible.

Tears may not be money
And what we had is good and done.

With grim determination, Ginny threw the copy of the Daily Prophet into the fire and watched as the edges began to burn.

Yes, she loved Draco, and she didn’t know if that would ever fade, but after her daughter was born and she was as far away from him as she could get, Ginny would work on forgetting him and making that emotion die away until it was only a memory from her past. She would work on making a life for her and her daughter even if she had to be away from family and friends to do so.

The baby would be born in about a month and there was much she needed to prepare. Using the material of her maternity robes, she wiped her eyes and rubbed her face.

But when it comes to my tears
You’re not worth a single one.

No more tears for Ginny Weasley.