Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form
A lone figure made their way through the silent graveyard, her fiery red hair loose and flying in the slight wind.
Ginerva Molly Weasley hadn't been back to England for 48 years, ever since she had been caught cheating on her then boyfriend Harry Potter with none other than Seamus Finnigan and eloped to Albania just 6 months later.
Many things had changed since Ginny had left. She'd been just a girl when she'd run away, leaving her family, friends and everything she'd ever known behind for what she believed was a better life with a man she thought loved her.
Oh how wrong she'd been.
Just 7 years and a child later Ginny found herself penniless and alone, stranded in a country she barely knew.
And when she did finally manage to return home, her whole world had been turned upside down. Her parents had cut her out of their lives, her brothers had all moved on, married, settled down, her friends refused to acknowledge (or see) her and worst of all, Harry, whom she had assumed would still be waiting for her, was in the arms of another woman.
The one and only Hermione Granger.
So Ginny had gathered what little belongings she could salvage from her childhood home and left once again, uprooting her young son and moving to Canada where she settled down and remarried, trying to carve a small existence out of the tattered remains of her life.
But now Hermione was dead, a fact Ginny only discovered after picking up a copy of The Daily Prophet from her local shop.
Her son Jacob, concerned for his mother's physical (and mental) welfare, had begged her not to go but soon forgot all about her when the news that his wife had gone into labour with their third child reached him, giving Ginny the opportunity to slip away for a few days, calling in favours from some of her friends at the Canadian Ministry for Magic to throw her son off the scent.
And so here she was. Ginny Weasley, a forgotten warrior in the war against Voldemort, now an old woman, sneaking through a graveyard to finally make peace with the woman who had taken her place at Harry Potter's side.
She stood for a moment in front of the grave, struggling to find something to say, to right the wrongs and put to rest the resentment she'd carried for all these years.
But before she could, a soft voice interrupted.
'You came.'
Her heart pounding Ginny turned and there he stood, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived and the man who's love she so recklessly cast aside, leaning on a walking stick, a young woman supporting his other side and looking at her kindly.
'You don't need to apologise you know,' Harry continued 'Hermione forgave you a long time ago and hoped that you had forgiven her, her last wish was that you would come and see her one last time before she went, but in case you didn't, she gave me this to give to you, she loved you like a little sister, Rebecca, help me please.' Harry rummaged in his pockets while he spoke and produced a letter, then with the help of the young woman who Ginny assumed was a granddaughter, moved to stand beside Ginny and hand her the letter.
It was then that Ginny broke, the letter felt so heavy in her hands, she didn't know why Hermione had remembered her after all these years, had forgiven her and all Ginny had done was continue to hate her.
'I'm so sorry Hermione, I wish I'd had the courage to come and see you, but I was afraid, I'm so sorry I'm late, can you ever forgive me?' she whispered through the tears, she began to cry even harder when she felt Harry's gentle hand on her shoulder.
'Hush now Ginny, she knows, she's no longer with us but she knows and a late goodbye is better than no goodbye at all.'
So there they stood, reunited in their grief as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon.
And Harry was right: a late goodbye is better than no goodbye at all.