Disclaimer: This song belongs to Sarah McLachlan. It's called "I Will Remember You".
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories…
Ginny watched him silently as he pulled on a sweater. It was cold; December was particularly harsh that year. The snow fell thickly down, covering the ground in a decisive manner. Not a blade of grass showed above the sparkling white. It pained her to see her husband so helpless, to see his green eyes constrict with unleashed misery. It had been hard on him the past few months, what with all the funerals and such. Lord Voldemort had come back, come back with a fiery vengeance, and the only way he'd rest his maniacal mind would be to torture and kill Harry. The guilt resting on Harry's shoulders was all too evident, and Ginny did all she could to lift it off.
Today was the hardest funeral of them all perhaps, for them both; today they buried their longtime friend Hermione. Ginny quietly sat down on the bed and waited for him to finish getting changed. She was already dressed up prettily in a black dress, but unlike other days when she got "dolled up" (as Harry fondly liked to call it) Ginny felt no pleasure in seeing her beautiful face in the mirror. Today all she felt was a huge void where her stomach should be, and her heart was quickly dissolving. Harry turned to face her, his eyes somber and locked, and held out his hand. She took it and got up.
"I'll just go get Dean now shall I?" Harry nodded without a word and watched as his wife went to their son's nursery room. They had named him after the first friend to fall; he was killed by a Death Eater's wand. Ginny soon came back with their son in her arms, who was fast asleep, his brown hair resting peacefully on her shoulder. Harry smiled down at him before taking Ginny's hand. They both Apparated to the cemetery.
There was a general rustle as the crowd saw who had arrived. Ginny squeezed her husband's hand to give him strength; it was so easy for him to break down these days. A reporter rushed up to him, eager. "Harry, you were a good friend of Mrs. Hermione Weasley, were you not? How do you feel right now?" Harry's eyes flashed with anger.
"This is her day, not mine.
Now if you'll excuse me," he replied, nonchalantly shoving the reporter
of their way and walking to where the hole had already been dug. Ginny couldn't help but notice how every
reporter was excitedly scribbling down the details of the shove and she too was
filled with rage. She breathed in deeply
to minimize it and turned to face the coffin.
I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a
word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard
Ginny and Harry both turned to see Ron holding in the tears as well as he could. Everyone knew he loved her once he yelled at her for going to that dance with Viktor Krum. Hermione knew it herself too, once they started going out in their sixth year. They got married almost directly after graduation, a few months before Ginny and Harry got married too. Ginny felt the tears prickling in her eyes and without another thought let them fall freely. She felt Harry's hand tighten on hers as they started lowering the coffin into the ground. Hermione was truly gone.
Hermione was perhaps the smartest person anyone had ever had the privilege of meeting. She always had something nice to say too, and kept everything in line. Everyone was shocked when, instead of landing a stable job at the Ministry, she opted to become an Auror alongside her best friends Harry and Ron. They were practically unstoppable, blasting Death Eaters out of their way like bowling pins. Ginny loved to hear the stories when Harry came home after a day of tending to Dean. But in their last encounter with the opposing side brought tragedy beyond belief. Hermione was dead.
Harry looked down at Ginny and then to his side at Ron; Ron had on the face of a heart torn while Ginny's face betrayed the anguish she felt at losing her best friend. It was silently agreed that none of them knew the words to express how badly they felt inside, at how their insides felt like they had been ripped out and thrown in the gutter. No one said a word as the dirt was started to be shoveled onto the coffin. Ron let out a weird, choked noise, and Ginny and Harry were grasping each other's hands so hard it felt like they'd rip off.
I'm so afraid to love you, but
more afraid to loose
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light
Ginny sobbed hard, desperately wiping at her face with a handkerchief. Combined with the falling rain, it was soaked within minutes, but she didn't seem to notice. She looked up at Harry, whose face was grieving beyond the telling of it. He was the one who came to her, saved her over and over again…but he had changed. All of the tragedy and pain he suffered finally took its toll on him, making him an impassive existence. The only thing Ginny could use to invoke an emotion in him anymore was their son. She looked down on Dean now and kissed his forehead, bathing it with tears.
And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
It came to the point where the ache
was too much to bear, so everyone began to leave. Low mutterings and stifled sobs rang through
the air as if someone had shot a gun it was that profoundly breaking. Ron came over to Ginny and Harry and Ginny flung
himself onto him, crying. Ron seemed
stunned beyond grief now, and Harry with one glance knew exactly how he
felt. The three of them took one last
look at the gravestone before turning away and leaving.
Weep not for the memories.