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SIYE Time:7:00 on 19th March 2024
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Molly
By HP Feminist

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 17
Summary: The stars were witness to their final dance, and the spirits of the earth blessed the land they stood upon- Eyes pressed shut, they floated upon the clouds...
Hitcount: Story Total: 3926







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Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowlings fabulous characters. Pity, that…

Hope you like it. Its short though…

*******


::Molly::


* ******



Ginny Weasley closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions lacerating at the strings of her inner sanity. They continued to build within her into a crescendo, until at last; the wave came crashing down upon her walls. A sob ripped hollowly through her belly, and trembling fingers came up to cover her eyes in a desperate attempt at shielding the grief. But the rippled memories passed unbidden over her, the panic laden voices both whispering and screaming into her mind as she bent her head against the icy stone.


“Make way, you lot! Come on, stay with us, Harry! Get me Augustus Pye, now!”


Back shaking violently, she smoothed a hand over the cool stone; her fingers swiping angrily at the offending leaves that had dared to settle there. She traced over the magically engraved letters of the name upon its marble surface, her tears splashing and leaving their icy trails in their wake. Ginny sunk down on her knees and wrapped possessive arms around the lone tomb that stood upon its noble, earthy mound. It was Christmas, and she didn’t want him to be alone tonight… Not when this was a time of family…


“Let’s move! Fourth floor! Spell damage! Remus, keep him awake, damn you!”


She could remember that day, even after two years… She could remember loosing hope for a new dawn, a hope of victory for the free peoples of the world, muggle and wizard alike. She herself had fought in the last war. The war to end all wars… The serpentine dark lord Voldemort had smote his ruin upon the world, carnage and devastation had become their new reality. But beneath this darkness sprang a light. A light that could neither be stolen nor diminished. And in the end, it was that light that had raised the golden crowns of victory upon their heads. It was that light that had shaken its fists of fury and brandished the wands of righteousness. Standing there, at grand zero, on the battlefield where the dead lay, and the tides turned, Ginny Weasley had seen that light. She had seen it strike its mighty power upon the dark lord, the shade melting away before the breaking of the dawn… And she had seen them fall… The both of them…


“He’s not breathing! Ennervate! Heart rate dropping! Ennervate! He’s gone into Cardiac arrest!”


That light had been Harry Potter…


“Dad! Let me see him! I have to see Harry! I have to see that he’s alright!”


“No, Ginny, he’s gone! Harry’s gone!”


“Harry is not dead!! Now, Let-Me-See-Him!!” She had cried against the firm arms holding her back from entering the emergency ward at St.Mungo’s. Screams of pain tore through the doleful atmosphere, soldiers of battle lying helpless, waiting to die.



Ginny buried her face against the stone, wanting it all to stop. She didn’t want to remember… She just wanted to sleep… Sleep with him in her arms again… But he already slept. Slept beneath the ground she had thrown herself upon in plea of his return. The light had been put out. Wind nipped at her cheeks, cooling the tears already matted under her eyes, only to be warmed by fresh burning streams. It was ironic, she mused, how she had promised herself just that morning not to visit there tonight. But, here she was… again… Reopening wounds that would not heal…


He shouldn’t be in there. He should have still been alive… He should have been there to celebrate Christmas at The Burrow with the rest of his only family. He should have been able to wake up in the morning and slip on a newly knit Weasley jumper, and then go downstairs to open presents with a boisterous Ron. He should have been able to expect the history of Christmas told to him and the children by Hermione. He should have been able to be offered a new holiday sweet courtesy of Fred and George Weasley, and be afraid of what it might turn him into.


He also should have been able to help her dad look for their mothers old spice rack hidden in one of the cupboards, despite knowing that they would never find it.


Overhead the sun had long set, and in its stead shone the moon, nestled upon a bed of stars in all its ethereal majesty…


The clouds had diminished, and shadows were left to flee from their naked exposure. In an alcove behind a grouping of tall trees, a small stream of moonlight created a puddle upon the ground through the canopies above, setting light on the three mounds. Two of them were conspicuously older than the third one, green vines snaking around the stones in a nature born tapestry. She was bent before the third one, her coppery red hair drawing a curtain around her features.


Harry James Potter
Last defeater of the dark lord
Died a loved man

“Love would save us all”



The last words shone with Albus Dumbledore’s ancient twinkle, another man among the many to have lost their lives that night. She hated him… She hated Tom Riddle… and she was glad he was dead, because he had taken so much away from them. He had taken her friends, he had taken her beloved mother, and he took away Harry… He took away Harry…. Ginny grit her teeth, her fingers tightening dangerously around the tomb stone. She bit down hard upon her lip to stifle the sob building in her throat, causing blood to cover her tongue. She would have killed him herself if it meant that Harry could live, to really live. As a boy of only eighteen, he had hardly tasted the liberties and joys of life. Those had been ripped away from him, even before he received his Hogwarts letter. It wasn’t fair… He would have been able to start a life, a real one. A life with her… A life he had only just embraced.


“God, it’s unfair!” She murmured brokenly against his stone. We would have finally been married, she thought to herself as she twisted her left hand around to gaze upon the diamond glowing in the darkness. For almost eight years, she had planned that wedding. Ginny let out a small laugh through her tears at the thought that she had been planning her wedding to Harry Potter since the age of eleven. She would have worn her Mum’s wedding robes. The white ones she had always secretly tried on, even as a little child when her mother was out denoming the garden. She could remember prancing elatedly about the room, tripping over their satin hems in her wedding dance. He had promised her that dance before he left.


But that had been stolen away too. It was nothing more than the dead wish of a fool.


“I don’t want to wait, Gin, lets get married…”


Ginny didn’t know how long she stayed hunched over the stone that night, her arms tight. She was lost… lost in his memory…


“Why are you crying?”


Ginny started in cold surprise and lifted her head from the stone to see a small girl standing almost sheepishly near the foot of Harry’s grave, her gaze curious. Furiously wiping the tears away from beneath her eyes, she got up from the dirt and stood tall. The young girl appeared to be around seven or so year’s old, with shoulder length copper hued hair and large eyes. She could have been an image of herself as a child. Despite the enveloping darkness, the child’s white dress glowed angelically as if touched with the light of the moon. Ginny wondered briefly why the young girl wasn’t cold. But then again, why was this little girl all alone in the middle of the graveyard on the night of Christmas?


“Why are you crying?” She asked again in a small voice. Ginny ignored the query and took a tentative step closer to the young girl. She just stood there, no fear in her eyes. A halo of holy luminescence seemed to float like a wreath above her hair, igniting each fiery, vibrant strand into spectacular shades of red and gold. She distantly reminded her of a sunset on an autumn evening.


“Are you lost? Would you like some help finding your parents?” Ginny found herself asking, her brows furrowing. Young children, especially little girls, had no business roaming the graveyard at night. They should have been at home, surrounded by family and friends while sitting beneath a holly decorated tree, belting out carols until midnight. Or in Ginny’s case, leaving behind a glass of milk and cookies by the fireplace if Father Christmas decided to floo to The Burrow instead of flying there with his enchanted reindeer. She definitely shouldn’t have been in the cemetery at night; perhaps she really couldn’t find her parents?


The little girl shook her head, her red hair swishing.


“No…” She whispered, but then looked pensive for a moment before continuing “But don’t worry, we all find our way back home in the end. One could never really be lost…” She answered, bending down to carefully pick frozen weeds off the Potter’s graves as if without a care in the world. Ginny felt that her response was rather odd, but a strange sensation of calmness abruptly fell over her with those perturbing words. Head bent in silence for a moment longer, she spoke.


“Yeah, I suppose so…” She replied, not at all sure why she answered in the first place. The little red haired girl stopped picking weeds and appeared joyful with Ginny’s comment because she suddenly smiled up at her with bright eyes. They shone like molten brown under the light of the heavens above. Sort of like melted chocolate.


“My name is Molly… What’s yours?” She finally asked.


“Ginny,” She said with a slight smile. Ginny sat down upon Harry’s grave again and stroked her fingers across his name. Tears burned fiercely behind her eyes for a moment but she wiped them away and breathed deeply.


“I like your name… It’s lovely…” Molly commented, bending down to brush dirt off of Lily Potter’s tombstone. Afterwards, her small, nimble fingers began to meticulously unlace the intricately wrapped leaves entwined over James’ stone, a soft song humming from her lips. Ginny felt a jumper of warmth knit itself around her at the compliment, and she hugged herself in a last attempt at preserving its goodness. It was so hard to feel such warmth when the cloud of lament drifted so close nearby. Who ever this little girl was though, she was the hole in that cloud. The hole that let some of the light spill down back down on her again…


“Thank you… I like your name a lot too; it was my Mum’s name…” She murmured, her chin resting over the arm folded beneath her head. Molly looked curious at this but seemed to decide not to pursue the subject. Ginny silently thought this was very wise and deep for a child to comprehend.


“You know, earlier this evening, there was a man looking for you…”


Ginny raised her heavy eyes from the grave, surprise blooming within her.


“A man was looking for me? Er, are you sure?” She asked, arching a brow. An unconscious hand went to the inside of her robes to clutch at her wand… Just in case… Molly just nodded her head.


“Yup, and he’s still around, I reckon.” She said, looking toward the grouping of trees to the path ahead. Ginny followed her gaze toward the path, recognizing the silent inclination that she go find whoever this man was. Heaving a sigh, she got to her feet.


“What did this man look like, Molly?” Ginny asked, brushing dirt from her kneecaps. A shiver ran down her spine from the chill of the winter wind, causing her to tighten the fastenings around the column of her neck. There was frost upon the ground now, sure signs of the arrival of snow. Perfect for Christmas, she mused, had her spirits not been so low. No doubt her presence back at home would mean she was fighting on Bill, Charlie, and Hermione’s side in a great snow ball fight against Fred George, Ron and of course, Harry… Ginny hastily buried away those thoughts and offered her attention back to Molly, whom seemed to have waited patiently for her to come out of her reverie.


“I’m not really sure… But I could tell he really wanted to see you…” Her eyes once more went wistfully to the path. There were a few moments of thick, uncertain silence between the two where Molly thought to herself. At last, she came to a decision and grabbed Ginny’s hand, pulling her toward the path. The red haired Weasley was momentarily surprised with the grip of the little girl as she was forcibly pulled into an exerting run. Turning her head back over her shoulder, her eyes fell back on Harry’s grave. No, she shouldn’t be leaving him alone… She shouldn’t…


“Wait, where are we going?” Ginny asked in a hushed voice, as she was afraid to break the silence of the cemetery. Molly did not answer her, however, but simply walked faster, her white dress rippling like a silver flag in the wind. Invisible hands were tugging at her black robes in a quaint plea for her to keep moving despite the sense of inner hesitancy.


“Molly, I need to know where you are taking me. It’s dangerous to just go running through the graveyard at night, and we’ll catch our death like this…” She admonished, prepared to pull back from the child’s grasp. She was almost twenty years old and taking orders from a child?! The small girl quickened their pace as they turned off the path into the forest ahead. Ginny forced the Gryffindor bravery within her to rear its head and roar.


But as they entered the woods, fear began to creep along like a spider in the pit of her gut. Until now, she had never really noticed how dark the forest got during the night… A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold passed roughly through her like the blade of a knife being dragged down the line of her spine. Molly’s fingers tightened around her own.


“Almost there… This was the last place I saw the man, I swear it,” Molly whispered, excitement in her voice. Ginny was sure that if she had looked, the child’s eyes would be shining with glee. Still breathing sharply from the run, she pulled her wand free from her robes and held it out behind her as they ran. Whoever was looking for her, it would be she who found him. Her eyes unconsciously narrowed into dangerous slits. She wasn’t a Weasley for nothing!


The two red heads entered a clearing, veiled by the moon. Ginny looked around, half expecting someone to jump from the darkness and hex her into next century. Molly, however, was still staring ahead. Tugging at the older woman’s sleeve, she pointed forward at a shape standing between two trees. Ginny followed the direction of her finger and tensed. The wand slipped from her fingers and hit the forest floor. She didn’t notice it even once for


There stood the silhouette of a tall man, his back turned to her… Icy fear swept through her in violent waves, causing her to tremble. Molly let go of her hand and slowly backed away.


The man slowly turned around…


“Do you love me, Ginny?”


“Yes… More, than anything I could ever know…”


“Then, would you marry me, Gin?”


“Yes, Harry… Yes…”



“No….” She murmured, the sight before her momentarily putting her on pause.


“No….” Ginny shook her head, her hands clamping tightly over her mouth. Green eyes… Green as a fresh pickled toad…


His whisper fluttered over her like a butterfly kiss. “Ginny…


“No… You’re not here… You’re not anywhere…” She whispered, covering her face as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Molly had gone, she didn’t know where.


The figure began to move toward her in slow, deliberate steps. She backed away, finding her next breath becoming very difficult to conjure.


Ginny fell back against the closest tree, squeezing her eyes shut as pain tore through her anew. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. No, he had to be a dementor, a boggart… anything… She was breaking all over, her knees threatening to give beneath her dead weight. The acidic sobs ripped unbidden through her parched throat, and she heaved in the effort of keeping them in behind her fingers.


She was going to die right there, she knew it. She couldn’t see this and then live… Not when her heart was choking from within her… Kill me right now, Ginny pleaded. Anything is better than this, she thought to herself.


Suddenly soft, familiar hands were clasping over hers, slowly and gently removing them from her face. His touch was like light spreading through her limbs, divine warmth branching out through every pore in her skin until she was floating in it. It was the touch of God, she was sure of it. And then she was looking up in into the face of her God, his green eyes staring soulfully down at her from under a fringe of untidy, jet-black hair. She knew that face… She had remembered every curve, every line of that face, down to the lightening bolt scar. And she cried, as her trembling hands reached up to trace that scar, her fingers working over every last detail of it until, at last, she started to be reacquainted with it again.


His eyes fell closed under her exploring touch, the moonlight spilling across his shoulders like silver armor. The fallen soldier… Her soilder with the broken wings…


Harry?…” She whispered.


And then he was crushing her in his arms, his breath hot on her neck. And she was shaking against his body, burying her face against his chest, smelling him and touching him over and over again… Her tears were sinking into the fabric of his war torn robes, never to be dried, always to be savored. Her fingers drifted down through his hair, over his scar and then to cup his cheeks. She remembered now… Those cheekbones, those curves, the softness of his skin… Everything, every last detail. She was rebuilding him before her very gaze.


Their eyes met. Brown and Green. Fire and ash. Not once did they blink, and their souls drunk into one another, gulp after gulp, until they were drowning in each other, not wanting to be saved. They couldn’t draw breath, they couldn’t breathe. She was him and He was her. They neither begun nor ended. No Alpha’s, no Omega’s… There was no now, there was no then… And they resounded each others name in whispers until their tongues remembered the feel and weight of each syllable.


Lips met, planets aligned… He tasted her, drinking her in, and she could only hang on as their hearts melded into one essence, and for a mere second, Ginny knew she had died and came back to life. He would never leave her again, she thought ardently as she enfolded him in her arms. His heart brushed against hers, trembles raking through them both in violent strokes. She could feel it within her, warming her core, opening the closed doors that had been locked. Harry was opening her, setting her free, giving her wings. Their connection was thriving…


He pulled away from her mouth, and looked down at her again, a halo of light perched upon the crest of his head. His fingers worked over her cheeks again, brushing away the fresh tears, only to give way to more. Each touch brought back a piece of her puzzle, setting her back together again and her to him. But it was only he who could do that…

He was kissing away her tears now, turning them into diamonds… Ginny closed her eyes and shuddered as he brought her against his chest, encasing her in his Godly touch, his warmth, his security… his love…


“Harry…” She whispered. He pulled her away to look up at him.


“I love you so much, Harry… Please don’t leave me again…” She pleaded, her fingers balling in his robes. He tilted his head down, his hands smoothing through her hair in feathery caresses. Ginny gave a little sigh.


“I never have left you, Gin… And I never will…” He whispered, before kissing her ear and repeating how much he loved her again. She sniffled and touched the long, pale column of his neck.


“Will you dance with me?...” She asked. At this, Harry James Potter smiled…


“Yes... Yes, I promised, didn't I?… Our wedding dance…” She slowly nodded. Harry offered her his hand, his fingers curling around hers, For a blissful moment, she closed her eyes as he brought the hand up to his lips, touching kisses to each fingertip. And so, they danced…


Come to me now
And lay your hands over me
Even if it's a lie
Say it will be alright
And I shall believe
I'm broken in two
And I know you're on to me
That I only come home
When I'm so all alone
But I do believe



Harry drew an arm around her waist, his other lacing with her fingers. Stepping close to his moonlit form, she took his hand and placed her other upon his shoulder. Ginny’s body became alive against his as they gently began to rock back and forth as a boat would rock against water. Very gently, he hummed in her ear as they danced. Her senses perked at the sound, and she sighed as a rush of content settled in harmony over their welded heart and souls. She could have died and not cared…


The stars were witness to their final dance, and the spirits of the earth blessed the land they stood upon… Eyes pressed shut, they floated upon the clouds.


Ginny tucked her head under his chin, listening to the slow beat of his heart, knowing with closed eyes that her own mirrored his own. She felt his lips touch to her forehead, once, twice, three times… And she could have sworn that the feeling of his kiss became lighter and lighter with each touch…


That not everything is gonna be the way
You think it ought to be
It seems like every time I try to make it right
It all comes down on me
Please say honestly you won't give up on me
And I shall believe
And I shall believe

Open the door
And show me your face tonight
I know it's true
No one heals me like you
And you hold the key



He twirled her once and then brought her back into his arms, their dancing becoming slower until they merely rocked back and forth. And then Harry was kissing her again, certain desperation behind his lips. And their souls brushed one another’s for what he silently knew to be the last time until she joined him…


Ginny pulled away to look into his green eyes and was startled to find his cheeks wet with almost transparent tears. Her hands trailed across the contours of his face, his tears clinging to her fingertips And then she knew what was going to happen…


Trembling lips covered hers once more, breathing the words “I love you” across her mouth before they pulled back. Ginny opened her eyes…


And she was alone again…


Never again
would I turn away from you
I'm so heavy tonight
But your love is alright
And I do believe…



But instead of a cold wind nipping at her cheeks, there was the sweeping of a warm caress. And she knew wherever Harry was, that he was brushing a kiss against the side of her temple… And then he was turning her tears into diamonds… As Ginny Weasley stood in that moon stroked clearing, she knew Harry Potter would never leave her…


***


Ginny softly closed the gates to the cemetery and pulled forth her wand to apparate. It was time for dinner at the Burrow with her family… The one she had been selfishly neglecting all day. But then before she could pop away, there was little red haired Molly standing by the gates, a smile on her lips. And Ginny couldn’t help but smile back.


“Go on then, its Christmas… Its time for you to head on home to your other loved ones. They’re waiting for you, dear…” And then the smile faded from Ginny’s lips as she looked down upon the small girl that resembled herself so much. But, the familiar young child was already turned away, walking out into the distance, leaving the older woman to stare back at her.


“Oh and Ginny dear?” She paused, turning to look at her over her white shoulder. “Tell Arthur that the spice rack is in the bottom cupboard…” She said with a wink and then was gone.


Ginny covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes shining bright like melted chocolate. Looking to the sky, she whispered...


“Thank you, Mum…”


*******



A/N: Well I hope you liked it. The lyrics to their dance was “I shall believe” by Sheryl Crow. It’s a lovely song, I recommend it. R&R!!!!

Cheers!


Reviews 17
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