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Category: Post-OotP Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Tragedy, Drama Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 453 Summary: When Harry realises his need for Ginny he eventually finds a way to tell her how he feels, but their fairytale romance is interrupted by a battle with the Dark Lord, and Ginny is determined that she won't lose Harry and is prepared to go to any lengths to prevent it. H/G, R/Hr. Hitcount: Story Total: 164416; Chapter Total: 6645 |
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O that ‘twere possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true- love Round me once again!… A shadow flits before me- Not thou, but like to thee. Ah God! that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be. ~By Alfred, Lord Tennyson Chapter XVII: Return of the Seventh Years Ginny and the students spent two days preparing the school. They went to the dormitories and laid red roses on each pillow belonging to each seventh year. Ginny had bewitched them to turn black, if the seventh year was dead, but it would only work once she announced the names of those killed to the school. The hung banners from each house in the Great Hall but added a black banner behind the staff table as a mark of respect. The first and second years went to the kitchens to help the House Elves. Whilst the House Elves were busy cleaning the school, the students polished the plates and goblets ready for the feast. Ginny waited everyday for more news from Dumbledore. She only went down to her swing once, to say goodbye to it. The swing had been her companion for so long and it had been her comfort. She didn’t realise that one day the swing would have a prominent place in the book of Hogwarts Legends. On the last night before the seventh years were due to return, after supper the students helped Ginny to return the house tables. Each table was adorned with flags bearing its own emblem. With much anticipation the morning of the thirteenth finally arrived. As the students were eating breakfast, Fawkes delivered a message to Ginny, using a feather. Ginny picked it up and read it quickly. Arrival in two hours. Make sure barriers are up. Can’t wait to get home. Ginny smiled. That was typical of Dumbledore. Ginny tapped her goblet with a spoon, and rose from her seat. “Dumbledore has sent word,” she said. “They arrive in two hours.” Cheers broke out throughout the hall. Ginny turned to, Luna, Colin and Susan. “I need you to come and help me set up the barriers,” she said. “Will you five keep an eye on the students please. The last thing we need is a riot on the day Dumbledore gets back.” The leaders nodded. Ginny, Luna, Colin and Susan, headed out to halfway down the drive where they built the barriers once more. Colin and Susan went back inside once they were done, but Luna stopped behind to speak to Ginny. “Do you think they will all come back?” Luna asked. “No,” said Ginny quietly. “Do you think it’s Harry?” said Luna. “I’d like to think no,” said Ginny. “I mean, he defeated Voldemort, he has to be coming home." “But you’re still scared that he won’t,” said Luna. “I know how you feel. Neville’s out there too.” Ginny hugged her friend tightly. “I wish they’d all come back,” she said. “Even though I doubt it will happen.” “Do you wish that you could have gone?” said Luna. “Everyday,” said Ginny. “But I wouldn’t have lasted. I get weaker everyday. I can’t stand for long periods. I can’t walk for great distances. I’m better here, as much as I don’t like it.” “Don’t give up on yourself yet, Ginny,” said Luna. “Madam Pomfrey is still working hard at finding a cure. She’s a miracle worker. There’s a good possibility that she’ll find one.” “Thanks, Luna,” said Ginny. Once breakfast was over, the students piled outside into the sunshine. They crowded up to the barriers and sat down on the grass, gossiping and laughing. Some struggled to hold back the celebrations, which is understandable, as there had been precious little to celebrate in the past few years. The minutes rolled slowly past and the morning gradually ebbed away. The sun inched its way across the sky until, eventually, noon arrived. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone had stood and watched the gates avidly. And then they saw him. Albus Dumbledore entered the gates and made his way up the drive. Behind him came the teachers and following them was the seventh years. Cheers broke out from behind Ginny. She put her hand up to her face to shield her eyes from the sun. There were definitely a few teachers short, but she was too anxious to work out who was missing. As the troop came nearing she could see Neville, hurrying up through the ranks. She saw Luna sprint down the drive to meet him, and Ginny smiled briefly as they shared a lingering kiss. The butterflies in Ginny’s stomach were fluttering madly. Then she spotted Hermione. She couldn’t mistake the bushy hair. A wave of relief washed over her, and she realised that Hermione’s left hand was held firmly in Ron’s right hand. Ginny strained her eyes to see through the crowd. Where was he? Why couldn’t she see him? The troop was nearing and Dumbledore had almost reached the school, but still the crowd did not part. After their walk up the drive Ron and Hermione reached Ginny. They both pulled her into a hug. “Where’s Harry?” she asked when they released her. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. “Where is he?” Ginny asked again, anxiety creeping up inside her. “Oh, Ginny, I’m so sorry," said Hermione before bursting into tears. “He’s dead, Ginny,” said Ron. His voice was flat, and his face emotionless. “But Voldemort was killed,” said Ginny. “How can he be dead?” “We don’t know," said Hermione, through her tears. “Nobody would tell us.” Tears fell down Ginny’s face. Ron pulled her close to him and she sobbed into his shoulder. Dumbledore approached them. “Miss Weasley,” he said. She turned. “Yes, professor?” “I would like you to do one more duty as headmistress,” he said. “I get the impression that the students would rather hear this from you than from me.” “Yes, sir,” said Ginny. She brought her hand to her face and wiped the tears from her eyes. The teachers took seats at various house tables, and Ginny and her team remained at the staff table. The room was silent as everyone waited to hear what Ginny had to say. “Welcome back, teachers, staff and seventh years,” she began. “We have missed you over these past few months.” She rifled through the sheets of parchment the Dumbledore had given her. “I have here a list of those who have been killed, who were either, students or staff of Hogwarts, or the immediate family of staff and students. You will be informed of any extended family deaths within the next few hours,” she said. She looked down at the list. “Professor Severus Snape, Professor Veronica Vector, Professor William Bicycle, Professor Sybill Trelawney, Alex Masterson; brother of Gina Masterson, Harriet Huddle; mother of Martin Huddle, Charles Weasley; brother of Ronald and Ginevra Weasley.” Ginny’s voice cracked slightly as she read her brother’s name. “Jennifer Sands; sister of Gillian Sands, David Snails; father of Ulrika Snails, Elizabeth Jeffrey; mother of Cheryl Jeffrey, Carrie Wright; mother of Belinda Wright, John Griffin; father of Anika Griffin, Christian Bradwell; father of George Bradwell, Lucy Allows; sister of Chrissie Allows, Dean Thomas; Seventh Year, Parvati Patil; Seventh Year, Draco Malfoy, Seventh Year, Michael Corner, Seventh Year, Lavender Brown, Seventh Year, Ernie Macmillan, Seventh Year, Vincent Crabbe, Seventh Year, Lisa Turpin, Seventh Year, Anthony Goldstein, Seventh Year.” Ginny paused before she read the final name on the list. She took a deep breath and fought back a new wave of tears. “Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.” The silence was deafening. All eyes were trained on Ginny. Nobody even dared to breathe. “I have been asked by Dumbledore to read a poem to you all,” she continued. “It may help to console you at this difficult time. Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you wake in the morning hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die!” Ginny stared down at the words. “I did not die,” she repeated in less than a whisper. She looked at Dumbledore, whose eyes held an almost mischievous twinkle. Was this some kind of message? “I will be in the quiet room this afternoon, as soon as we leave after lunch,” she said. “One final thought before I hand the school back to Professor Dumbledore. Because of this war, many of us will have lost someone dear. Even if they were not on this list today, may they remain in our hearts and our minds. Let them be with us, in spirit, all the days of our lives. Thank you.” Ginny and the rest of her leadership team vacated their chairs and moved down to their house tables. The teachers moved up to their rightful places and were surprised to see students crossing the hall to console members of other houses. Slytherins were going to Gryffindors. Hufflepuffs were going to Slytherins. Ravenclaws were hugging Gryffindors. Dumbledore turned to McGonagall and muttered quietly, “I knew she’d do it.” At the Gryffindor table, Ron looked at Ginny suspiciously. “What on earth is the quiet room?” he asked. “The Divination classroom,” explained Ginny. “It is always dark. We use it as a place to go and think, or to discuss feelings and worries. You can come with me if you like.” Before Ron could answer a host of owls entered the Great Hall dropping many letters on every table. They were news of deaths. “Who else has the Order lost?” Ginny asked. “Tonks,” said Hermione. “Kingsley and Dung.” “Mum and Dad are ok?” said Ginny. “And Bill, Fred and George?” “Yes,” said Ron. “The Order didn’t come off as badly as they expected.” Food appeared on the plates. Ginny stared at it and found that she wasn’t hungry. “I’m not hungry,” she said. “I’m going to head up. Join me when lunch finishes.” Ginny stood up before Ron could stop her, but as she left the Great Hall, Dumbledore caught her eye, as though he was trying to tell her something. As she sat alone in the quiet room, the words of the poem resounded in her head. “I am not there, I did not die.” “I did not die,” she repeated. She heard noises below her and people began to climb up into the room. The people who entered sat down in a circle on the floor. “Chrissie,” said Ginny quietly. “Get the box of candles and give everyone one.” The little girl nodded and grabbed a box. Soon everyone held a lit candle in their hands. “All of us here has lost someone close to us in the war,” began Ginny. “What we will do is each of us will say a few words about the person or people we have lost and then blow out the candle. So Jonathan, will you go first?” A fourth year boy on Ginny’s left started to speak. “My Dad was a great person. He was always very much against the Dark Arts, he did everything he could to stop them. He was a great Dad, too. He always had time for me, no matter how busy he was. I’ll miss him so much.” The boy blew out the candle. A girl next to Jonathan spoke next. “My auntie was an auror. She caught many Death Eaters after the first war and made a lot of enemies. She never gave up on anything and always fought for what was right. She is my inspiration.” She blew out the candle. Chrissie began to speak in a shaky voice. “My sister, Lucy, left Hogwarts a few years ago. She was a Ravenclaw, like me, and always hated the Slytherins, at least the ones who supported You-Know-Who. She was very clever and did so well. She worked in the Ministry, in the Department of Law Enforcement. She was killed in the battle just outside of Hogsmeade.” Chrissie blew out her candle. The boy on her left spoke up. “My mum wasn’t your ordinary mum. She was always out there, fighting against the Death Eaters and working for Dumbledore. She tried so hard to make the world a better place for all of us to grow up in. She died trying. At least it’s over now and she didn’t die in vain. I love you, mum.” He blew out the candle. Colin Creevey spoke next. “Some of our own seventh years have been lost. One of them, a great friend of mine, Dean Thomas, was taken by the Death Eaters as a prisoner along with the many others. He will be sadly missed especially his sense of humour. Good luck, mate. I’ll see you soon.” Colin blew out his candle. A boy on his left spoke. “My cousin, Karl was training to be an auror. He wanted nothing more than to be part of the action. He was like a big brother to me. I’ll miss him a lot.” He blew out his candle. A first year girl spoke next. “My Uncle worked for the ministry. It was his duty to go out and fight. He was the bravest person I knew.” She blew out her candle. Ron took a deep breath. “My brother, Charlie loved the outdoors and he loved dragons even more than Hagrid. He worked for Dumbledore in fighting You-Know-Who and was crucial in recruiting members for the Order. Charlie was a great friend to me and my family, as well as and awesome brother.” He blew out the candle. Hermione’s eyes glistened slightly as she began to speak. “I’ve known Tonks for almost three years now. She was such a lively person, so friendly and clumsy. She was a metamorphmagus and we always had hours of fun watching her change her nose every few minutes. Our lives will feel quite empty without her laughter.” She blew out the candle. Ginny’s was now the only candle left burning. “I lit my candle today for the most famous wizard in the world, and yet somehow the least known. Everybody knew ‘the Boy-Who-Lived’ but very few people knew Harry, and nobody knew him like I did. Harry was a person, a wonderful caring person, who had been deprived of love throughout his childhood, but yet somehow had the strength and courage to go out and carry the whole world on his shoulders. All Harry ever wanted was a loving family, and we were his family. Hogwarts was his home. Harry wanted children that he could love the way he was never loved, he wanted to take his sons up in the air on a broom and hear them laughing and having a great time. Harry never wanted fame. Would you want fame if it cost you your parents? Harry lost almost everyone he ever loved, yet he still carried on and did his best to save the world. He did it. He defeated Voldemort. I love you Harry. I always have and I always will. One day I’ll see you again and it will be like nothing has changed. I love you. I love you so much, and thank you for saving our lives. Goodbye, Harry Potter.” Ginny blew out the candle. One tear slid gently down her cheek. Everyone in the room sat in silence. After a few moments pause Ginny picked up her guitar. I would like to share this song with you. It was written by a muggle singer called Eric Clapton after his two-year-old son fell off a balcony to his death.” She began to play. “Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on, 'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven. Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven? Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven? I'll find my way through night and day, 'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven. Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees. Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please. Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure, And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven. Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on, 'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.” As she played the last few chords, a tear slid down her cheek. She noticed that the other girls in the room were sobbing, and even some of the boys couldn’t hold back the tears. “Thank you for coming,” Ginny said quietly. “You have all been great these last few months. You’ve worked so well and we’ve had a good time. I wish the circumstances could have been better, but it’s best not to dwell on that. Please keep up your friendships with the other houses. I will see you all at supper.” Ginny stood up and left the room. Ten minutes later, Ginny was crying to herself on her swing. Whether her eyes were open or closed, all she could see was Harry’s face. Her beloved Harry. Where was he now? Why hadn’t he come back? Why had he died? As if in answer to her silent questions an owl flew overhead and dropped a special issue of the Daily Prophet on the floor. She skimmed the article and her mouth opened in shock. …many from our side killed in battle. A further two hundred and eighty-seven taken away by Death Eaters and executed at an unknown location. “Oh my God,” whispered Ginny. “They’re not dead.” She remembered the poem. “I did not die,” she continued. “Of course! They’re alive, in the clutches of Death eaters, but alive. The Wizengamot mustn’t want anyone to know. I wish Dad would hurry up and assume power.” She stood up from her swing. “I have to go," she said. “I have to. Dumbledore must want me too, otherwise he would not keep sending me these hints.” She sat down again, suddenly. “I’m too weak. I can’t go. I don’t have the strength to make it.” She stared at the floor. Harry’s face appeared in her mind once more. “I can’t leave Harry to die. I love him too much. I have to go. I have to try. Even if it kills me, I have to try. I will go tonight.” Under the cover of darkness, Ginny took flight from the roof of the Astronomy tower. She flew at a great speed over the castle and away over Hogsmeade. Dumbledore, from the window of his study watched her go. “Godspeed, Ginny Weasley,” he muttered. A/N What do you think? I have one thing to say. DON’T BAIL! PLEASE! Just stick with it. Review. I’m getting straight to work on chapter 18 now. So it won’t be too long before I update. Thanks to all who have reviewed my previous chapters. The next few chapters will be Ginny only. So don’t be disappointed with the lack of Harry. Pay close attention to the next few chapters. A lot of things will be tied up. The song is by Eric Clapton, and the story behind it is true, I think. The poem is by Mark Frye and was used by AgiVega to introduce a chapter in the story 'If the Fates Allow'. I would have changed it, but as teh poem is quite important to my plot I decided to use it anyway. I found the poem months and months ago and it is was first gave me the idea. |
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