The Bench
Walking among the fallen leaves, Harry Potter gazed at the bare trees. The soft crunch of his shoes against the pavement and the quiet whispers of the wind broke the stillness. Pausing briefly to catch his breath, he shuffled along the empty sidewalk. It was the fiftieth anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, and Harry was the only one outside, as all were enjoying the holiday. The clouds swirled above, threatening rain. He was alone.
Harry, discovering a lonely park bench, stopped to rest. His hand sought the railing. Running his fingers over its worn surface, he discovered a carving. He touched the carving, delicately examining it with the tips of his fingers. He felt letters. He looked down. He remembered.
He remembered a day he would never forget. It was the best day of his life, in his opinion. The day he proposed to Ginny.
It was after the battle, that very same day; it was also cloudy. He and Ginny were strolling along the pathway, hand-in-hand. He remembered the sound of her laugh, the warmth of her smile, the bounciness of her step. Harry remembered how the celebrations had started soon after his triumphant defeat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He had bought the ring a week before, and it was sitting contently in his pocket, waiting for the opportune moment. It was simple, but a Potter family heirloom. He had retrieved it from Gringotts as soon as he washed off the blood on his hands
Ginny had pulled him ahead, wanting to find a place to sit. Spotting the then gleaming new bench, he sat her down on his lap. Ginny had turned to him with joy in her smiling face. He knew, in that moment, the ring would be put to good use. He had reached into the deep pocket of his jacket, feeling the soft velvet of the box. He slowly pulled it out, and faced Ginny. He didn't even have to ask, her squeal of excitement when she saw it told him all he needed to hear. It was his dream for her to be his wife. Yet, a dream he didn't think was possible until that very morning.
But time passes, and things change. He and Ginny had lived a long, happy life together, but she was gone now. He smiled at the memories floating past his eyes, now brimming with tears. He was alone.
The bench, that decaying, moldy bench, had so much importance to him.