The Right Choice

Dear Harry,

This is a very difficult letter to write. There are a few different reasons, some of which I'm sure you know, some of which you don't. Despite how hard this will be for me, I'm going to be excruciatingly honest with you, Harry. I owe it to you to be so.

All my life, I've wanted to fall in love with someone who would cherish the things that I cherish: The Burrow, my family, Hogwarts, Quidditch and friendship. There were times when I almost gave up; despairing that I would ever find someone who could fulfil the requirements I so desperately wanted. Then I met you.

No, it wasn't love at first sight, Harry. I don't believe in that. But as the years passed, I saw the man I'd been dreaming of grow before my very eyes. Suddenly, you cherished everything that I cherished, almost more than I did. I was astounded, yet at the same time, not. It was as if somehow, I always knew that it would end like this.

My behaviour around you varied astronomically as the years passed. I know you at least noticed that. From first year obsessiveness and stalker tendencies to fourth year friendship and loyalty. And now, on the eve of the rest of our lives – those same traits moulded into an emotion I can't describe if I were truly to want to.

I do know what this emotion is called though. And I think, by now, you might have an idea too.

Love.

When I was little, love seemed a very distant thing, reserved for the eyes of elderly people looking upon their ever-growing family. When I was a little older, it seemed open to all giggling girls and bashful boys. But I grew into my heart, and now my life and heart beat in accordance with each other – life and love no longer separate. And it's you, Harry. You're the link that binds them together. For suddenly, you stand upon the eve of battle, prepared to stand for our right to live. And my heart beats fiercely and proudly with love. For me, Harry, you hold my love and my life in your hands.

I have never intended to add a pressure to your already weighted life. I did, however, want you to know all the options. If you're going to make a choice, at least make a well-educated one. With all my heart, I would prefer to know that you knew exactly what it is you choose… or reject.

Harry, I've felt something for you for as long as I can remember, and surely before then. Whether it be idolatry, admiration, lust, love or some crazy mixture of them all; it has always been truly felt, all the way from my head to my heart.

This isn't a simple crush anymore, Harry. And now, on the last night I can, I present you an option. A choice. Take it or leave it – the choice is up to you. I beg of you, though, be true to yourself. Choose with your heart and don't let logic cloud your mind.

Good luck out there, Harry. I'll be thinking of you.

Love forever,

Ginny

Dear Ginny,

I'm writing this letter in my favourite lounge chair, soaking up the heat from the fire. This is the last opportunity I'll have to sit and be still before all hell breaks loose tonight. Can you believe that this is the last time I'll sit here? The memories I have from this room, the people in it ever changing, but the scene still stays the same. I'm going to miss it.

I had to go to English classes when I went to Muggle school. They learn how to write properly all the way to the end of seventh year. I think that's something the Wizarding world is missing. I can transfigure a person into a canary (without the aid of your brothers), but I can't describe something the way I see it in my head.

And if I could, Ginny, I'd describe what I see when I look at you.

I want to thank you for your letter. It opened my eyes to a hope that I thought I'd lost. You have such a simplistically honest view of the future. Unspoken though it was, your conviction that I'd survive was as obvious as Ron and Hermione's 'hidden' relationship. I'll live to make that choice, because you believe it so.

For some reason, I have lived a life positively showered with love. After I lost my parents and lived with Durselys – well, they were times I don't like to remember. But they were just a stepping stone, I see that now. From my mother and father's unending love to your family's continual support and care…to you. Your love, Ginny, is the one that scares me the most.

Your love is the one that comes through truly knowing me. Regardless of how it began, you to this day, love me for who I am. Oh, I know my parents did – but they would love me despite anything, as does any parent love a child. I know Ron and Hermione do – but it's a love based on friendship, loyalty, a two way bridge. Ginny, yours is friendship, loyalty, but it's so much more. And you've never received a hint of anything as such from me.

And that makes me ashamed.

I'm ashamed that it takes a battle, the battle, for me to confess my feelings. And to tell you the truth, I don't know if I can even now. But just know this:

When the battle is over, I'll make the choice. And it will be the right one.

Take care for me. Please

Love,

Harry

Harry sighed as he rolled the parchment up. Tying it closed with a piece of red ribbon, he closed his eyes briefly. He needed strength, so much strength for so many different things.

The end had come. Tonight and in the subsequent days, the biggest war the Wizarding world had every known was about to begin. Harry drew a deep breath as he looked around the Gryffindor common room. He prayed he could it end it before Hogwarts suffered – that was one more casualty he couldn't face.

The sound of the portrait hole opening caused him to turn quickly. The younger students had all been moved to a secure section of the castle, and the older ones were preparing to aid the Aurours and teachers in place around building.

Ginny Weasley stepped through into the room, and Harry's breath caught in his throat. He vowed to remember that image; her red hair falling around her face and her eyes searching the room, searching for him. She walked over to where he was standing, her expression showing him what she had said he'd see. Wordlessly, he handed her the parchment, watching her take it with a slightly shaking hand. They both knew it was time. Ginny stepped closer to him, and gently wrapped him in her arms. Harry could smell the scent of her hair and his eyes slid shut as he prayed desperately, that one day he would be in this same position again.

Ginny pulled back and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. With a final, lasting look in his eyes, she turned and quickly walked out.

Harry stilled, unable to move as he watched her retreating back. Then, he gathered himself, took one final glance of his home, and walked out to meet his fate.

A/N: Happy Birthday Mary.