Background Information- Ok well this will become a collection of completely different stories but all of them are about Ginny and Harry after the war. Each story will be a different path that their lives and relationship could follow. Everything is in Ginny's point of view. I guess you could call this a songfic but it is more about the story with the music playing in the background. Ok continue.

Songs- All My Loving by the Beatles I'll be waiting by Adele (start at around 0:57)

(Either one is good depending on your music taste)

I was lying on my bed at the Burrow as usual.

My room was changed a bit since the war but not too much. I still had my single bed with blue covers, a small wooden desk and chair, my purple rug, and my worn bedside table that had been Bill's before me. I had gotten rid of all the quidditch and wizarding band posters on the walls though, and I had added a muggle radio and some small pictures on my bedside table.

The radio was on and tuned to a music station. It was playing as background noise in my room.

As always I was staring out the window and thinking about Harry. He had come to the Burrow with my family when the war ended and I was glad to finally be back with him. In a few days' time however, he had started to distance himself from the rest of us. At first I had tried to stay close to him and not let his mind wander but I soon realized that he needed space. I guess everyone else did the same, we all thought that he just needed time and space so we gave it to him.

Unfortunately that had been the wrong thing to do. One night, about a month after we came back to the Burrow, he just mysteriously disappeared without a trace. He didn't even say goodbye.

We searched for him for many months afterwards, all of the order helped, but of course we couldn't put out a missing persons alert because he was Harry Potter and if the wrong person was on the lookout and found him he wouldn't only be missing, but dead. After a while we all realized that our efforts would be in vain. Harry was brilliant at hiding and he had his cloak, he would be basically impossible to find.

So we all went back to our normal lives, except for me. After the shock of his leaving and the rush to find him wore off I was basically bedridden. I was sick with heartbreak and I couldn't find the motivation to do anything. This came as a shock to a lot of my family and friends because they saw me as this brave, strong, and stubborn girl. Yes I had survived through the first time Harry left, but that time I knew that he had a reason to come back, he had to save the world. He also hadn't had much of a choice the first time.

This time he had every choice to stay or go, he had no reason to come back besides me, and I knew that compared to whatever made him go that I just wasn't enough.

The only thing I had the will to do was write letters. I wrote letters to Harry every day. I couldn't bring myself to describe the pain and heart-break I felt because I will love him forever. Instead I wrote letters of love and friendship. I wrote about what was happening around me. I told him of Ron and Hermione's engagement, of Charlie's secret love life with some girl he knew in school, and of Percy's wedding.

Whenever I was done with a letter I would tell my owl Leo to find Harry Potter and deliver it to him. Every time he went out he stayed out for many days to deliver the letter. Leo must give the letters to someone because they are always taken, but he never returned with a reply. Not even a single one.

And so I lay there, listening to the song on the radio as it describes my feelings.

It's been eight months since Harry left, yet I still just can't take it.