|SIYE Time:20:12 on 16th December 2018|
Memoirs of a Red Headed Witch
By My Wicked Quill
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Category: Pre-OotP, Post-OotP, Post-HBP, Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Humor, Romance, Songfic
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence
Summary: Ginny Weasley was always overlooked. Always the youngest, always the smallest, and was never really given the chance to let her voice be heard. But sometimes the best insight comes from those who were always in the background. Her story of redemption, loyalty and love, proves that she was never just the Weasley brothers' little sister.
Hitcount: Story Total: 112397; Chapter Total: 5103
Awards: View Trophy Room
And here, my readers is the grand climax I promised.
“I do believe in the light
Raise your hands up to the sky
The fight is done
The war is won
Lift your hands
Towards the sun…”
30 Seconds to Mars- This is War
I remember when he died. No matter how many years pass, or how old will get, I can’t and won’t ever forget the sting of seeing Harry Potter’s motionless and limp body lying on the ground. I would never again be able to stand on the front steps of Hogwarts without feeling the heart dropping sensation of screaming his name and receiving no response, no reaction what so ever. I had only minutes before lost my brother- my Fred, I had watched so many die; I had lost so much, so many, I lost myself in a sea of bloody turmoil. But despite all the pain already festering within me, seeing Harry, allegedly dead mere feet before me… I was pushed over the edge.
My hands were shaking. There was no breath in my lungs and my head was spinning dizzily.
I heard someone calling my name, but I didn’t realize it was Neville until his arms caught my body before it crumbled to the ground.
“Ginny, listen to me, it’s going to be okay, you are ok, I’m right here,” he whispered, there were tears in his voice as well.
“C…Colin…” He was dead, peacefully still on the ground beside Tonks and Lupin…and Fred. Neville was right to warn me- there were more bodies in the Great Hall- but no amount of warnings could have prepared me- or anyone else for that matter- for the devastating wave of grief that ambushed me as I saw my friends and family dead around me.
I can’t find the right words to…describe that feeling. I wondered why it had to be them, and then I chastened myself for actually wishing it on other people. It was a whirlwind of emotion and thoughts before I broke down crying.
I was shocked, and terrified…would I lose someone else? Who else would succumb to that fate? What did they ever do to deserve that? Colin was so young; he never even got to live the life he dreamed of. He was going to become a photographer…
Tonks and Remus had just had a child.
Teddy. My Godson. He would grow up without his mum’s love, only living in the part of him that his parent would always be a piece of. He would grow up without hearing her sing him to sleep, without a dad to lead him to manhood, to teach him how to ride a broom.
Neville passed me into my mother’s arms, though I can barely remember the switch. I’m sure, now, that the moment she saw me she made sure to get me in her safe arms and refuse to release me. I let myself fold into her hold, I cried into her shoulder, taking in and relishing in her homey scent, even potent through the ashes on her robes.
Freddy…the always laughing Freddy…why did he have to leave us? Why did he have to die because of the irrational hatred of one man? He would never be able to be George’s best man…he would never be able to get married and have his own children. He would have been such a fun dad.
I wanted Teddy, I wanted to hold him in my arms and tell him that he was not going to have the childhood his Godfather had.
I wanted Fred…I wanted him to crack a joke like George did when he lost his ear. Only death was not something to laugh about.
I didn’t think I would ever laugh again.
My mother’s heart wrenching sobs into my hair only fueled my own pain. I was heartbroken for my mother’s pain…she had lost a child. She never wanted any of us involved in the war, we should have listened…I should have made Fred and George stay home with me. Guilt took over my pain, guilt for encouraging our rebellious streak, guilt for leaving Tonks to fend for herself.
Percy was beside me then and I threw myself into his arms. How could I had I ever even thought to deny a brother of mine forgiveness? My guilt increased; what kind of sister was I? I loved Percy, he was my family, he was my brother, I had just lost one and my perspective was suddenly adjusted. Why did it take the death of Fred to realize that family came first? I still can’t answer that question and can only say that my righteous anger toward the fact that Percy made a mistake and turned his back on Harry blinded me. It was a terrible thing, but I can’t change it.
“I’m… sorry…Percy,” I said through my hiccups.
He hugged me tightly, “Don’t worry about it.”
People everywhere were crying. I had no idea what we were going to do; how were we going to pick up the pieces and collect ourselves in an hour? We obviously had no intent of letting Harry go, so we had an hour.
Would more people die when the hour was up?
Who else would I be forced to say goodbye to?
Would it be me?
What if it was?
I’d be with Fred.
I’d know if he was okay.
Everything during those moments was blurry…until I saw Hermione.
I was somewhat composed myself but seeing her opened the flood gates once again. She hugged me and whispered words of comfort, and I was just so glad she was there. My best friend. I remember swearing to myself that I would never let her leave again. I would never let any of them leave again.
She was a part of me. She cried with me over the Yule Ball, it felt like so long before...we were such silly little girls… we were innocent then.
She gave me advice that essentially landed me with Harry.
She woke me up in the middle of the night to relieve me from my horrid nightmares… nights were she would end up crawling into bed with me when I cried.
I always returned the favor.
She held my hand as Madam Pomfrey healed my ankle.
She sat with me and helped me through my break up with Harry.
I told her I was there for her, when she erased herself from her parent’s memoires.
We cried together for Sirius, for Dumbledore, when to the rest of the world, we were as strong as they come. There, surrounded by everyone we knew, it didn’t matter anymore. As long as we were together it didn’t matter that they saw us cry.
Ginny Weasley cried.
And I’m never going to be ashamed of it again.
Ron rubbed a hand on my lower back as he wrapped himself around the two of us. I felt stronger somehow, a little more complete.
Perhaps…Perhaps it was going to be okay. In an hour Harry would kill Voldemort and life…life would be okay again…someday.
I had to hope that would be the case, because if I thought of anything else, any other options, I was as good as done. I wasn’t going to surrender.
“We are going to keep fighting. Keep fighting to do what Fred died to do. We are going to win.”
I felt Ron nod.
“When did you become so smart?” whispered Hermione.
I half smiled, “I learn from the best.”
She laughed once through her throaty tears, and we remained silently in our small huddle for a few more minutes until something finally registered, “Where’s Harry?”
The two of them seemed startled, “Oh…um…he was right behind me,” Ron’s voice was low and raspy.
“Should we go find him?” Hermione’s tone was back to its worried and logical state.
“Nah, I think he just needs…time I guess.”
“Is it a good idea to leave him alone?”
I remained silent as they whispered back and forth like concerned parents. I was too drained to think about what was the best for Harry. I knew that he wouldn’t have wanted to be in this room; he would have suffocated. But if I knew Harry, and I did, he would return very soon. Most likely with a new strategy.
“How many Horcruxes are left?” the words were out of my mouth before the thought even settled in my head.
Ron and Hermione gasped. Their eyes were wide with shock and it seemed I had succeeded in startling them again. Ron struck into action first. He grabbed my elbow and was already holding Hermione’s hand when he moved us back to the Entrance Hall.
“You have about two seconds to explain how the bloody hell you know about the Horcruxes.”
I hadn’t meant to bring it up in the least, but my thoughts were on Harry when they wandered to his mission and what he could have been doing at the moment. Nonetheless, I spoke without thinking and though I was too wary to even stand straight- I had to make an effort.
“I over heard the word…last summer…I’m sorry!” I said before he could say anything, his face showed pure rage. Hermione seemed frightened. “And well, I started digging and I had already figured out the prophecy,” this was met with a face that surpassed rage, so I started rushing though my words, “And I knew that Harry and the both of you were off on a mission to end Voldemort, and I knew that Harry was the only one who could finish it. So I realized the mission was something that had to be done before, and done in order to kill Voldemort. So when I found out what a Horcrux was, I knew that Tom’s Diary was one, and so I put two and two together and realized there must have been more than one, because Tom Riddle’s Diary had already been destroyed, and so I figured the three of you were searching and destroying the rest of them. When you got back here and said you were looking for an item it just solidified everything I had worked out.” I let out a huge breath and hoped I wasn’t going to be scolded.
Hermione looked….impressed. “Ron…don’t be mad but…Ginny I’m so proud of you,” she cried and started sobbing into my shirt, “I’m so sorry- I hated keeping things from you. Now you know… you been here all alone… I know we should have just trusted you. It must have been so hard. I can’t believe what I’ve done… oh Ginny how could you ever forgive us?”
“Of course I’ll forgive you Hermione, I can’t even imagine not… I love you, you’re my best friend.” This only made her sob even harder.
I looked up from the shoulder of my best friend into the eyes of my closest brother. It was again, that same thoughtful look I pegged on Ron whenever he was thinking hard about something. I didn’t want him to be mad; I didn’t have the will in me to bicker with my brother, especially not then. I didn’t want him to be upset with me…it would have hurt too much.
“I’m…sorry…Ron,” I said thickly. My tears blurred my vision again.
“No…it’s alright, I’m proud of you Ginny,” he smiled, “I know that I have never really shown it but…I’ve always been proud of you.”
And I lost it. I flung myself into his arms and pulled him close.
All those years of being disregarded because I was the youngest, because I was the smallest, because I was a girl…it didn’t matter anymore. Ron was proud of me, and in a way, that’s all I ever wanted.
It was a rather important moment for us, from that moment on our relationship changed for the better. In the years to come, yes Ron would still pull the big brother protection rights, but we became more than brother and sister, we became best friends. And it wasn’t only because he was dating Hermione.
We gained mutual respect for each other.
“There’s only the snake left,” he whispered into my ear.
I pulled away and looked into his eyes in disbelief. “The snake? As in, Voldemort’s snake?”
I took a surprised breath, “How-what-how are we going to get that close?”
Hermione bit her lip, “We don’t know.”
“We have about forty minutes to figure it out.”
“I’m sure Harry’s working on it right now,” said Ron, “I’m just all out of ideas at this point, and mum really needs us.”
“Yeah, and there are still so many people that need medical attention,” Hermione reluctantly agreed.
“The best thing for us to do right now is to help here.”
I nodded, and with one last hug we reentered the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey was shakily wandering over to the wounded and my family had settled into a small corner of the Hall. We returned to them and Bill placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes were red but his face was dry; Bill was strong and I took comfort in seeing him.
“How are you, firecracker?”
I tried to smile, “I’m alive; does that count?”
“More than you know.”
“Geeny,” sighed Fleur, pulling me into an embrace.
“Hi, Fleur,” I replied.
“I knew you would end up in ze fighting, you never were one to back down.”
“I have a lot to thank you for, and a lot to apologize for as well. I’m sorry for being less than welcoming to you, starting two years ago.”
She smiled warmly, and for once, with tears staining her face, ashes dusting her hair and blood clinging to her robes, I saw her guard down and she looked natural, I had never seen her look so beautiful, “Zere eez nothing to apologize for, eet eez all in ze past.”
I nodded and pulled her away only a step, no one seemed to notice, “I wanted to let you know you were right, about You-Know-Who and the You-Know-Whats.”
She appeared to get the message, “Are they all gone?”
“Almost,” I said reassuringly.
“Eez zat why a certain boy eez not ‘ere with ‘is family?”
I shrugged, “It’s not over yet.”
Fleur wasn’t so bad; I suppose the only reason I made myself believe she was a terror was because she was taking a brother away from me. But I realized that she wasn’t. She was just adding more love to our family. And I guess I still was a bit sour over the reactions Harry had from the girl all those years ago during the Triwizard Tournament and after. But as she said, it was all in the past.
When being with my family and looking over Fred’s body became too much, I began to assist Neville and Madam Pomfrey with the others.
“Miss. Weasley,” she said, “There are still several people outside awaiting help, would you please head over there?”
“And Mr. Longbottom, please escort her…I don’t want to think of what might happen if anyone where to wander outside alone…” her voice cracked, but then her professional appearance returned. I would never have been able to be a healer; the no emotional connection would nearly do me in.
Neville led me toward the outside grounds. The night was a deep purple; dawn was approaching. There were more people than I had expected outside wounded and in pain. Many were being tended to by wizards trying to do anything they could. We had a few healers, but not enough. By that point my mother had thrown herself into helping others inside and it made a lot of difference. I knew she felt better saving people and making sure no other parents lost their children.
I never really liked the sight of blood. I had seen it on several occasions, more than I liked to admit, but it never failed to give me an unsettling feeling at the pit of my stomach. There were so many wounds…and screams of pain…it was terrible.
How could one man, one boy, grow up to cause all this horror? How could this have occurred because of one human being? The only answer was that he was far from human. He was evil. He was the epitome of hatred. He was the definition.
“Ginny,” Neville called my attention, “I’m going to help this man over here, why don’t you follow that path right there?” he pointed just a few feet away, “That way we will still be able to see each other, and there are people all around here.”
“Don’t hesitate to call me if you need something, and don’t do anything rash please.”
I looked into the humble and deep eyes of Neville Longbottom wondering where the bumbling, awkward, and unconfident boy had gone. The boy who stepped all over my toes at the Yule Ball. I knew he was long gone, but I was glad to say that throughout the transformation he stayed true to himself. He had changed in the war, but he was still Neville, and he had changed only for the better. “I promise.”
He smiled, “Get to it.”
I wandered down the small grassy path, casting a few cleansing and bandaging charms I had learned from my time in the Room of Requirement. I was holding it together; I hadn’t seen anything too troubling…until I heard quiet whimpering. Turning my head toward the sound my heart fell to my stomach.
“No, no, no,” I muttered rushing over to the body, the little girl was squirming and gasping trying to fight the ache. There were slashes across her chest, and the cloth from her shirt stuck to her bleeding wounds. I immediately recognized the curse as Sectumsempra.
I could tell she had been bleeding out for a long while.
“Shh…” I said, softly pulling her head onto my lap. I pushed the wet mattered hair from her face, moist from the sweat of her exertion and from the fever I diagnosed with a touch of her forehead. Her wounds were infected and it had spread. There was cloth dried into the slashes on her stomach and she had already lost too much blood.
I attempted some spells to stop the bleeding…but she needed blood replenishing potions that I didn’t have. The infection was raging and I couldn’t think of anything else in my power I could do.
I looked around wildly, but no one was going to be able to help. She was white as sheet; even if I got hold of Madam Pomfrey, there were too many things that needed to be done to save her. If she got the potion, the infection would have overtaken already, if I waited to get a healer to stop the infection, she would have already bled out and died alone. It was too late.
“You weren’t supposed to get caught up in this,” I whispered solemnly, I held back my tears not wanting her to see me cry, “How did you manage to stay?” I asked positive she was too far gone to hear me.
I held Anamille Smite, Avery’s younger sister, knowing she was very close to death. “It’s going to me alight,” I told her with a forced smile, “In a moment nothing is going to hurt anymore and the pain will be gone, I’m right here.” How could I say those things when I didn’t know if they were true? I was only saying what I hoped was awaiting her.
I had to hope that Fred wasn’t in pain anymore; I had to hope that he was laughing with the Marauders and cracking jokes at Dumbledore.
Anamille looked up at me with the beautiful blue eyes of her brother and she cringed, “I want my mum…please… it hurts.”
At her plea I couldn’t help but let the tears fall a bit. I hurt me so much that she was so helpless. I could do nothing but make her comfortable and lie through my teeth. “I know sweetie,
it’s alright, your mum is coming…I promise.” It didn’t even matter that she didn’t believe me; she took the lie and found comfort in it.
I grabbed her hand and applied pressure until she couldn’t anymore. Finally her hand dropped from mine and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Damn!” I cursed, hitting the ground with my free hand. She was only 13 years old! She hadn’t even lived yet, neither had Colin- or Fred for that matter! The girl had just died in my arms. I watched the life drain out of her body. I was crying, only hoping that I was true to my word and she was no longer in pain. Poor Avery…he had lost a sibling.
That’s when I felt it. I felt a familiar sense behind me. It was heavy, as though someone was watching me. But I wasn’t alarmed or frightened; the weight of the gaze was familiar even through wire framed glasses. The gaze belonged to green eyes.
I heard a light brushing of grass behind me and I was certain he was there. I turned around and was met with a big fat nothing. I shook my head but the sensation didn’t go away. I felt him. It sounded insane even when I thought it to myself, but it also didn’t make any sense. Harry Potter was not there; I didn’t see him.
Don’t think I was daft, I knew he had an invisibility cloak that would make the situation plausible, but why would Harry Potter be wandering around the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest under the protection of the cloak, when he should have been inside creating a new battle plan? He was supposed to be finding a way to slay the snake of Lord Voldemort; he didn’t really have time for a stroll in the moonlight.
I grew flustered as I started arguing with myself. I kept trying to believe I had only imagined it, but I couldn’t deny that I felt the intoxicating gravitational pull of Harry Potter. I could always tell when he was in a room; he was never able to sneak up and surprise me. I never really understood, and he told me once- late one night in the common room- that he felt the same way with me. I never questioned it.
I don’t usually question much in the Wizarding World.
But I refused to believe that Harry had just passed by me. Why wouldn’t he have stopped? I knew that we were over but…he could have said something. Especially when we both knew we could sense when the other was around. He was inside with Ron and Hermione. He had to have been.
I started, “Oh, Neville,” I gasped.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“Ginny? Are you alright? You look dreadful, you’re pale,” he observed stepping closer to me. Most likely he thought the shock of the night finally hit me.
I shook my head and cleared all thoughts of Harry Potter from my mind. “No it’s, Anamille,” I gestured to her lifeless form, “There was nothing that could be done.”
He lowered his head, “Oh, no.” Slowly he picked up the body and began returning to the castle. I followed him a few steps behind, only looking back once.
If Harry truly was out there was he about to….no, he wouldn’t…he couldn’t.
I shook my head yet another time and told myself to stop being stupid. After everything we had done, Harry wouldn’t have just given himself up. No. He would never do that.
“I hate waiting like this.”
“There’s not much longer,” Neville said aloofly, looking at the ceiling of the night sky.
“Is that supposed to make me feel any better?”
Not looking at me he replied, “I’d try anything at this point.”
I smiled warily, “You’ve been so good to me this year, Neville.”
“What, were you expecting anything less? You’re my best friend Ginny; I would do anything for you.”
Suddenly, something very odd happened. I had the oddest sensation of Harry’s lips on mine. Like our kiss in my room on his birthday, that knee melting kiss… I felt it and not a second later the feeling ended.
“I would too,” said Luna sitting down on the other side of me. “Even though I know I can’t do everything I would do whatever I could, if you needed it.”
I wasn’t paying attention to her however. I was trying to understand what was happening. The kiss experience was quickly replaced by an odd emptiness. After the kissing sensation and I felt…lost…in my head... and in my…heart.
“Ginny?” Luna prompted, “Are you alright? It looks like you have wackspurts in your head.”
Was I having a heart attack? Is that what it felt like? I couldn’t tell, but there was an odd pressure in my chest and I was beginning to feel frightened.
“Ginny,” Neville took my hand, “Ginny?” when he got no response he gently shook my shoulders.
I felt oddly cold.
“What’s happening?” Hermione’s voice asked… it seemed so far away.
“I think she’s gone into shock.”
And suddenly…the feeling was gone. I could breathe easily and I felt warm and…normal again.
“I’m ok,” I said shaking my head, “Um…must have been those wackspurts.”
Hermione touched my forehead, “You’re white as a sheet, and you’re sweating.”
“You don’t look to hot yourself,” I grumbled; the last thing I wanted was for everyone to start babying me. I was fine. At least, I was then.
Luna smiled, “I think she’s back.”
Hermione nodded, “It would appear so.”
I looked at Luna, so glad she had managed to stay unscathed, “I’m so glad you are okay, Luna.”
She smiled, “Oh yes, Dean made sure that I was kept safe.”
I nodded, “I’m glad he did.”
I turned back to Neville; he had a far off look in his eye, a look he’d had since we re-entered the castle. I was about to ask him what was wrong-
“Have any of you seen Harry yet?” Ron asked marching up to the group of us.
“I haven’t seen him,” Hermione said softly.
“You mean he hasn’t shown up yet?”
She shook her head. I didn’t want to be worried, I mean, it was Harry and he had a habit of keeping himself alive. But alas, so close to Voldemort’s final deadline, I began to worry sick. We all did, but looking around none of us caught any glimpse of him, or his feet.
Then, in a matter of a few heart beats everything came to a disastrous halt.
I had completely cut myself off from thoughts of a future with Harry. I had given up, I knew it wasn’t going to happen and I felt like an idiot for still wishing for it. I forgot about it because it wasn’t what Harry wanted, not because there would be no Harry to have it with.
When Voldemort’s raspy voice returned to the castle, it was the shock of a lifetime.
“Harry Potter is dead,” he told us.
I didn’t call his bluff, and everyone else was dead silent. Some had faces of pure horror, some of complete denial. I was a part of the latter.
In those few seconds of stillness, Hermione had stopped breathing and I was searching within me for some kind of dread; I knew I would feel it if Harry was dead. It was that strange connection making me positive I would just know if he was dead. I felt nothing. Nothing other than the sadness of lost friends that had plagued me the entire hour.
Bill moved toward the door.
“No!” I cried, “It’s a trap!”
“What if it isn’t?”
“You don’t know that.”
Ron shook his head, “Harry’s not dead Bill.”
“We can’t be sure, Mr. Weasley. The point of the matter is we need to do something other than sit here like fools,” Professor McGonagall said.
“As much as I believe you about this trap we must make some sort of move.”
I was starting to become hysterical, “He’s just trying to get us out there!” All I was wondering was where Harry could possibly be, if he wasn’t out there with Voldemort. Why hadn’t he come rushing in to show us he was ok?
No one had a reply, no one had seen him in a while, and I had only a feeling that he had been wandering around under his cloak.
“He’s alive Bill, I just saw him outside near the forest,” I half-lied, anything to get them to believe me.
A very pale Neville stood to his feet, and taking a breath said, “I know where he went.”
My eyes nearly fell from my face. He knew where Harry was? And he hadn’t told me?
Hermione seemed to be concerned about his barely audible voice, “What is it Neville?”
Neville swallowed, “He told me to kill the snake the first moment I had the chance…he said he wasn’t going to be able to do it.”
I was sure many people in the crowd understood the gravity of what Neville had just divulged, but Hermione, Ron and I, we understood that Harry had given himself in. He made sure all lose ends were met; he would have never passed off the responsibility if there was still a chance he could kill the snake. Harry must have been positive. Positive and determined.
Still something in me wouldn’t believe it, “Why?” I asked, not only to Neville but to my brother.
“Where did he go, Neville?” asked Ron. When he didn’t get a reply, he took Neville’s shoulder and shook them, “Where did he go?!”
Neville looked up and met my brother’s eyes with a solemn gaze, confirming what we were all thinking.
“No,” gasped Hermione.
“If I would have thought- I told him we weren’t going to stop fighting, I never thought he would-” Neville was frantically trying to make sense of things, “I didn’t know…”
I couldn’t believe he would have kept that to himself. Half of the conclusion came swiftly into my head; Harry would have given himself up, knowing that we would keep fighting…he knew that after the snake was taken out someone would be left to finish Voldemort. It would have only taken one curse because Voldemort would be mortal. Only, why did Harry feel he needed to sacrifice himself in the first place? It didn’t make sense.
Did he think that… perhaps if he gave himself in, Voldemort would be more merciful towards us? Would Harry be stupid enough to think that?
The answer to that question was the easiest: Of course he would.
I still didn’t believe it, “It’s a bluff!” I called, but people were already running towards the door. Could they really believe it?
Not wanting to be left alone and not particularly one for being in the middle of a crowd I pushed my way through to the front.
That’s when I heard a scream; a high-pitched blood curdling scream…by no one other than Minerva McGonagall.
Ron and Hermione were screaming as well, but I was still hidden behind a horde of people; it felt like slow motion, trying to make it to the front. I was dreading getting to the front, just as much as I was anxious to get there. When I did, everything changed.
McGonagall was clutching at her heart with another hand over her mouth, Ron was supporting a nearly fallen Hermione, and my brother Bill was pushing everyone back into the school, without any success. People were yelling and crying…
“Ginny, no, stay!” warned Bill as I pushed against his arms.
“Let me see Bill, let me see!” and I broke through.
Some part of me desperately wishes I would have listened to my brother; I would wish anything if it meant I could have saved myself the sight before me because it is still alive in my nightmares today.
Hagrid’s tears of anguish, Voldemort’s joy, Ron and Hermione’s terrified resignation… Neville’s anger….
And Harry Potter’s dead body lying at Hagrid’s feet.
It couldn’t be true, Harry couldn’t be dead, and everything I was seeing was a figment of my imagination. At least that’s what I was desperately hoping for. Harry was what I had always been looking forward to; he was what I had spent an entire year fighting for, even if I didn’t think we were going to be together…I loved him and it killed me thinking that he wouldn’t get the chance to live the life he so wanted…even with someone else if he wanted. Harry deserved to live; Harry was the heart and soul of the light side…without him it was over.
All of this happened in another flash of a few seconds; one moment Bill was pulling me back as I pushed him away, the next I was clawing onto him while everything around me spun.
Harry was truly dead. He held me tightly as my knees finally gave in.
“Harry, No!” I screeched my voice hoarse. The pain was blinding, first Fred…now Harry? It was more than I could endure.
I would never see his brilliant green eyes…or Fred’s mischievous smile…
Was Harry with his mum at least?
With my brother?
With Hedwig and Dobby?
Mad-Eye and Cedric?
I loved Harry with everything I had in me, I never understood it; I never understood my infatuation for all those years, but he really did mean so much to me.
And what I regretted most…was that I never got to tell him that I loved him. I was too much of a coward; I was too scared to put my heart on the line to tell him something he most definitely deserved to hear. Needed to hear. Harry never had enough love in his life and he didn’t hear endearments as often as a normal person.
When I looked into his eyes I could see the longing…the want for something more. As if his childhood wasn’t bad enough his teenage years were the most unfair…
How could I have not told him?
How could I not have told him that I loved him, not the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One, I loved him because he was just Harry. He needed to know that and I never took the moment to tell him. Tell him that I loved him because he was so good.
And yes because he was so damn noble.
But he was gone, I would never be able to tell him…and the seventeen years he spent on this earth were nothing but years of heart ache and pain…I could have eased that. I could have made sure he knew that someone cared for him, not just my mother, my family or his friends, but that he could have the love his mother gave to his father. I didn’t.
How was I going to live with that for the rest of my life?
How was I going to live without him?
Even if we were only destined to be friends; because he had a choice. For once in his life he could control something. He could control what he wanted from me.
Harry saved my life, he saved my father’s and my brother’s and countless others. Why couldn’t anyone save his?
I clung to Bill as the tears fell. Voldemort was talking but I couldn’t understand what he was saying, all other noise was like a foreign language.
At some point both sides began yelling back and forth, Voldemort was trying to make Harry seem like a coward. Ron and my family were screaming to prove him wrong, when a scuffle ensued. I finally let go of Bill so I could see clearly. Neville had taken a stand against Voldemort. Bellatrix was laughing.
I was appalled, “What is he doing? Neville, No!”
But before I could do anything Voldemort summoned the Sorting Hat from the castle and it landed on Neville’s head.
“Now with the help from Neville Longbottom, I will reveal what will happen when someone tries to oppose me.” With a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat burst into flames.
Voldemort- the bugger, was smiling.
Suddenly a wave of hundreds of people could be heard screaming war cries; it only took a lift of the head to see the massive crowd running toward the castle already cursing at the Death Eaters. Even far of in the distance I could see my brother Charlie at the head, leading the swarm.
Everything happened at once: Voldemort was caught off guard and Neville was able to throw the enflamed hat off his head. I began to run toward him when he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the hat. He looked up and met my eyes.
We both had the same thought. “Dumbledore’s ARMY!!!!” In one swift movement the snake was decapitated, and the last horcrux was destroyed.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“Impedimenta!” he cried and hit an oncoming Death Eater, “I’m fine, let’s go!”
“HARRY, WHERE’S HARRY?!” Hagrid’s voice boomed.
Running inside with Neville, my heart nearly stopped when I heard the half giant’s question. Harry’s body was indeed missing from where it had been. Visions of his body being kicked around by Death Eaters made me sick. But I had to keep going; I had to keep fighting.
There was chaos everywhere as everyone ran into the Great Hall to continue struggling. George and Lee were overtaking Yaxley, the Death Eater, and Percy and my father were dueling the Death Eater minister, Pius Thicknesse.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Potter’s little sweeties!” For the rest of my life I would recognize the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Hermione, Luna and I didn’t even bother responding. We began firing everything we had at her.
“Oh, ho! Well it seems you’ve got some spunk!”
I didn’t think it was possible for one woman to take on three people, but she was doing it with enough energy to hold a conversation. Luna, Hermione and I were not amateurs, but Bellatrix made it seem that way.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” she sing-songed.
And we did, trust me we did, but nothing worked.
And then, she did it, “Avada Kedavra!”
The moment I saw the jet of green light making its way toward my head, deep down I secretly wondered how long it would take before I was able to see Fred and Harry again. When the moment of insanity fled my consciousness I managed to find the time to duck out of the way. It passed mere centimeters from my nose. The light blinded my vision because of its brightness and the moment I stopped seeing dots, the first thing I saw was my mother bounding her way toward the witch.
I had never in my life heard my mother use any kind of derogatory language. But Bellatrix Lestrange really did bring out the worst of people.
“NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!” she cried, sending a nasty curse toward the deranged witch.
Bellatrix’s wild, black eyes flared with excitement, “Oh! Mummy has come out to play!”
They began to duel. I threw myself back against the wall beside Hermione as we continued to watch the scene before us. In the center of the Great Hall Voldemort was fighting McGonagall, Kingsley and Professor Slughorn, keeping up easily with the three senior Order members. His red eyes literally danced; he was enjoying this, enjoying the fact that he had killed Harry Potter and because we didn’t bow down to him he had the opportunity to kill us all. The people leading the war against him.
Bellatrix and my mother had a style and grace that I only wish I could have, back and forth; I couldn’t breathe, wishing to Merlin with all that was inside of me that my mother wouldn’t fall to Sirius’ fate.
“You will never touch our children again!” yelled my mother with one last spell. The power of it was noticed by everyone around, and finally, justice was served when Bellatrix Lestrange hit the ground, dead.
What happened next, I’m sure you know; there isn’t a soul in the Wizarding World that doesn’t know what happened.
A shield erupted in the center of the room and expended the entire width, from wall to wall. All the Death Eaters on one side as the rest of us on the other, divided by a sizzling, powerful, magical wall.
And at the center, the source of the spell, stood Harry James Potter just newly reveled from his cloak.
He was alive.
I was feeling so much, too much, I nearly fainted. How much could a heart go through in one night? How far could it be mangled and twisted? I was so completely out of it I didn’t not pay the slightest bit attention to what Harry was saying. Voldemort seemed outraged, I would be too; I mean how many times did you have to kill your nemesis before he died?
My mother took a step in front of me almost blocking my view, but they were circling each other. Harry was taunting him, but what they spoke of…I had no idea. It didn’t make any sense. I heard something about the Elder Wand.
The Elder Wand? That was part of an old fairy tale story for children, from the book the Tales of Beddle the Bard. The Elder Wand wasn’t real. The Deathly Hallows weren’t real.
But then…there was still so much I didn’t know. There must have been more to it than just the Horcruxes…I would never be able to catch up.
“That would make me the rightful owner of the Elder Wand,” said Harry, “Not you, Tom.”
Not only was Harry alive and speaking, but he was speaking incredible things that I just couldn’t believe. Harry Potter was alive, he survived the killing curse yet again, and was the owner of the famous unbeatable wand-making him the most powerful wizard of all- that was a little more than I could handle. I must have been dreaming. Perhaps I would wake back in my room at Aunt Muriel’s and that whole dark night would have been a horrid nightmare.
Alas, when I pinched myself I was still there beside my mother.
Voldemort was infuriated; he looked as though fire was about to emerge from his eye sockets. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “I will still best you Harry Potter.”
No he wouldn’t.
He and Harry recommenced their iconic duel, with Voldemort’s killing curse meeting Harry’s disarming charm in between them. That time however, the wand in Voldemort’s hand lifted from his grasp and landed in the palm of Harry’s, proving that Harry Potter truly was the master of the Elder Wand.
My mouth fell apart as the crowd gasped. In another bout of slow motion, Voldemort’s body collapsed. Struck by his own rebounding killing curse, Tom Riddle fell down to the ground, dead at last.
Tom was dead.
Voldemort was dead.
And Harry wasn’t.
Tom might have still been with me in my nightmares and my worst fears, but he wouldn’t be able to hurt me or my family ever again. It was over. It was actually over, the light had won.
The war was won.
As if on cue dawn met the horizon and the sun washed us in a basking glow. Natural light flooded the grounds; the gaps in the walls the falling ceiling, they let in the daylight.
We weren’t going to have to fight anymore. We wouldn’t have to lose any more people.
I stared at the body. Everything had happened so fast…but you all know the details, you all know what happened.
Once those thoughts resonated in everyone’s mind, the cheering began. An eruption of happy choruses filled the room. And of course, I couldn’t help it, I ran to Harry. It seemed everyone want to touch him, some piece of our Harry, our Harry who had finally fulfilled his destiny. We had a new chance at life, a new chance for a better world.
People were crying and hugging, Aurors were rounding up stunned Death Eaters (in both senses of the word, stunned by magic or shocked that their master was rotting flesh) and Rona and Hermione….were kissing.
I couldn’t help but laugh, I honestly couldn’t. In all the evil, something good had come out of it; but what was funnier was that it took this war to get the two to admit it to each other. They had the worst timing possible. But when you were dealing with Ron and Hermione- and Harry and I for that matter- you were dealing with the most stubborn people you will ever meet, and so it wasn’t at all unexpected.
At the sound of my laughter Harry turned around and saw me. My breath caught in my throat, ending my chuckle. In the midst of pandemonium, celebration and hundreds of people swarming about, Harry stood there and just stared at me, and I didn’t look away from his green eyes. For a moment I thought he was going to say something…I even thought maybe he was going to kiss me. But then he was swept away by others and I knew I was foolish to expect anything less.
But…at least I knew that Harry Potter was alive.
At least I knew that he was okay.
And that meant that we would all be okay…eventually.
A/N Just two more chapters left!
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