Disclaimer: Most of the characters and places in this story come from the brilliant mind of J. K. Rowling, and for that I am truly grateful to her for creating such an imaginative playground.

A/N: Okay, I started this story before the seventh book was out. I haven't fully finished it yet but it is a work in progress and I'm hoping that readers can still find pleasure in this story. I originally started knowing that it would be an Alternate Universe fic no matter what J.K.R wrote in the seventh book. My hope is that you will still read and enjoy and please leave a review. So without further ado...

What He Has Left

"Time is free, but it's priceless.

You can't own it, but you can use it.

You can't keep it, but you can spend it.

Once you've lost it you can never get it back."

Prologue

Ginny glared determinedly at the tiles along the wall of the bathroom cursing each one for its existence. Her mind was a frenzy of shuffled thoughts, and a headache was rearing its unwanted head around the corner. Ginny gave an audible groan before submerging herself in the bath water. The rushing sound as her head was engulfed in the lukewarm liquid brought muffled silence to her ears and each movement she made sounded funny as she fought the urge to come up for breath. She wanted to stay like this for as long as time would allow her. Stay submerged in a feeling of unhindered nonchalance.

Feeling the pressure build in her chest from lack of air, Ginny pulled her face out of the water and gulped at the stuffy air in the bathroom. None of this was familiar…from the gossamer-pearl-white tile walls to the gold encrusted faucet. It was all so clean, so stuffy, so…French. Ginny glared at the dress robes she was wearing, they had of course become uncomfortable while she made this act of rebellion by locking herself in the third floor bathroom and bodily submerging herself, robes, bridesmaid dress, and all, in bathwater. Yet she sat here for what must have been and hour and no one had come to check on her. Ginny grunted in frustration while she adjusted her position in the tub. She could see her toes from beneath the peach dress, she wiggled them idly lifting her hand slowly out of the water and placing it underneath once more.

Her ministrations were broken at once by the loud banging on the other side of the door. Expecting the sound Ginny stopped her movements and stared at the door worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yes?" Ginny stared at the door wondering who it was, hoping for some attention yet praying it wasn't the worst sort…mum.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley." Ginny cringed at the voice. Her worst fears had come to pass; Ginny knew that tone of voice, and what's more, her mother had used her full name in address.

"M—mum. I'm not coming out. I look horrid in this color and I'm not going to subject myself to such embarrassment for that French cow," Ginny stated in a confident manner. It wasn't completely true. She didn't know why she felt the need to escape this wedding, but she knew at once that she didn't want to be put on display. She played the card that she knew would soften her mother and at once she heard the effect as her mothers voice came nurturing and muffled by the door.

"Darling, it's not such a bad color. It makes your hair shine beautifully and well—"

"Mum! My freckles stand out like giants in a daisy field," Ginny whined. Though it seemed childish she really did feel unattractive in the gown. Her mother hadn't made a reply and so Ginny waited with baited breath. Maybe she'd won. Maybe her mother would concede and grant her pardon from participating in the ceremony. Then she wouldn't have to face the torture of standing in front of everyone and the awkwardness of seeing…him. However, her mother was not about to make her dream come true.

"I'm coming in," was Molly's reply before she muttered, "Alohamora." The lock on the door clicked back and Molly marched in searching the massive bathroom with worried eyes until they landed on Ginny. Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks tinged pink with anger before she uttered in a clipped tone, "Ginevra. What exactly, are you doing in the bathtub with your robes on?"

It was a logical question, but Ginny had no idea how to answer it. It had seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. Upset with the preparations for the wedding and Fleur's constant demands and snide remarks about her posture had pushed Ginny too far. She had escaped the practice ceremony and had started a bath, hoping to be relaxed and felt no need to shed the robes. She was not capable of voicing this however because her mother's stern stare had brought childish fear back into her heart and instead Ginny felt foolish and raised herself out of the tub.

This proved to be a hard feat considering the new weight of the robes and dress almost pulled her back under, but she climbed out of the tub and approached her mother looking thoroughly ashamed. Molly's eyes softened and she tut tutted quietly as she set to dry off her daughter. Once Ginny was seemingly righted Molly observed her daughter and smiled softly.

"Come now, why don't you change out of your robes and gown and meet me downstairs for a cuppa?" Molly patted her daughter on the back and Ginny nodded, consenting to the fact that maybe she truly needed to speak to someone. So she set past her mother, down the hall to the bedroom she was staying in at Château de Delacour and set to pull herself together to talk with her mother over a cup of tea.

The talk with her mother had greatly helped Ginny to put things into perspective. Her mother was much more observant than she gave her credit for. Ginny told her all about the tentative relationship that she and Harry had shared the past school term and how all the frenzied things that happened near the end had ended what she had thought was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Molly had listened and hadn't handed out judgment like Ginny half expected her to. Instead, Molly smiled at her daughter and marveled about how grown up she had become. This had put the pair in an interesting place and Ginny found that she too had started to view her mother in a much different light.

The days progressed steadily with no word from Ron who, against much resistance on Molly's part, had gone to the Dursley's with Hermione and Harry for the beginning of the summer. Molly and Ginny had continued their afternoon conversations with tea and when the afternoon before the wedding arrived Molly expressed her concerns to her daughter.

"What if he doesn't make it?" Molly asked; her concern etched in every line on her face. Ginny took time to notice more and more about her mother as the days wore on. Her mum was a beautiful person, she decided. Her selflessness was enough to make Ginny ashamed of her own selfish desires. Molly Weasley never thought of herself. Ginny let a soft smile linger on her lips as she placed a calming hand over her mother's clenched fist.

"He'll come Mum," Ginny said with the certainty that she felt, "He knows tomorrow is an important day for Bill and the family. Heaven only knows he can keep himself away from Fleur for so long," Ginny added causing her mother to chuckle. Ginny found that she was relieved that she could ease her mum's fears. Molly still took to carrying her clock wherever she went, and all the Weasleys were still pointed on mortal peril. It made Ginny's heart ache for her mother.

She was about to say more but was cut short by a rush of noise in the parlor. Ginny and Molly eyed each other as they tried to decipher the rushed words. By the sound of it Fleur and Mrs. Delaclour were greeting someone in rapid French. Ginny tried in vain to understand what was going on, but eavesdropping was pointless considering she didn't understand a word of the language. It didn't seem to matter however and Fleur trumped her way into the kitchen followed by Mrs. Delaclour and a woman Ginny recognized as Mrs. Delaclour's twin, and then after them there was a boy—or young man rather.

"Oooo," Fleur cooed once she saw the occupants of the kitchen, "Sank goodness you are 'ere. I was 'oping to be able to introduce Ginny to my cousin, Nicholas," Fleur motioned to the young man.

Nicholas was tall, not as tall as Ron, and he was lean, not lanky. He held an air of sophistication that caused Ginny to straighten her skirt and wonder why she hadn't taken more care with her appearance before leaving her room this morning. His features were fair and his smile was polite, though strained as though he wished to be somewhere else. Ginny was very much aware of his presence and she tried her best not to let it show.

He finally moved to settle his eyes upon Ginny and it might have been her imagination but it seemed as though his smile got brighter. He bowed slightly and extended his hand to Ginny. She placed her own hand in his and found that his hand was the softest hand she'd ever felt. She was suddenly ashamed of her hand, cracked and manly as it stood in contrast to his which were milky and smooth. He bowed his head and kissed her hand before releasing it again.

"Eet is very nice to meet you Ginny," he spoke. It was deeper than she expected and she found that he was staring at her and she realized the she hadn't given a reply.

"Oh…er…the pleasure is all mine, Nicholas. I'm sorry, but I don't remember Phle—Fleur ever speaking of you before." Ginny cursed herself. What was wrong with her? She was going about this all wrong. It was as though the sane part of her brain had taken a holiday.

"Zat iz razzer funny you see because she 'as spoken of nussing else, but you to me." Nicholas smiled and it took Ginny a while to comprehend all of what he was saying because his accent was a bit stronger than Fleur's.

Instead of responding, Ginny stood stupidly, blinking and saying nothing. It was at this moment that all hell broke loose with raised voices from the parlor. It took Ginny a moment to register that the voices were growing louder and heading in their general direction. Mrs. Delaclour had taken her sister aside and they seemed to be engrossed in a discussion with Ginny's mother about the wedding. Fleur was hovering between Ginny and Nicholas with a delighted expression and Ron—Ron was standing livid in the kitchen glaring at a red faced Hermione.

"What the bloody hell was I supposed to do Hermione? Those people were horrid to us, and they have been horrid to Harry his entire life! I needed to enforcesome justice."

"No Ron. Leaving Dudley in that state was not the right thing to do! You just proved right everything that they thought about magical people all along. I was trying to talk them around and you ruined everything," Hermione poked a stern finger into Ron's chest with every other word. Her gaze was menacing and if it weren't for the fact that they were biting each other's heads off Ginny thought that they might kiss.

All came to a final end when Harry dragged himself inside the kitchen, rumpled and tired eyed he became alert as he examined the faces of the people with mild unease. His withering glance took in every unfamiliar face and soon his emerald gaze locked on Ginny and she felt her breath flee her chest. They stood and held the longest gaze that Ginny could ever recall having. It was over however when Fleur let out an excited cry.

"Arry! Sank goodness you came. We were so worried zat you would not make eet," Ron gave a look of indignation that Fleur was not worried he wouldn't make it and Hermione looked more furious than ever. Ginny gave a sideways glance to Nicholas who showed no outward surprise to the situation.

"I was just introducing Ginny to my cousin Nicholas," Fleur simpered. Harry drew up sharp and took a long look at Nicholas and the proximity between him and Ginny before extending his hand, a stiff introduction at best. Fleur moved fluidly around the room, not seeming to notice the awkward feelings she was leaving in her wake.

"Zis, zis is my muzzer." Fleur dragged Harry over to Mrs. Delaclour and began the long line of introductions. Ginny on the other hand made her way over to Hermione and tapped her bushy haired friend on the shoulder.

"Rough exit?" she asked quietly so as not to draw too much attention. Hermione turned around and breathed a sigh of relief before Ginny's vision was blurred by bushy hair as she was hugged by the other girl. Hermione pulled back after a while and shot Ginny a look that had Ginny pulling her out of the kitchen and up the marble staircase. Hermione gasped at the house.

"I didn't get a proper look when we'd first arrived. I was busy yelling at your brother," Hermione breathed as she ran her fingers along the crystal railing; muttering the whole time about the amount of cleaning charms that must be applied to them daily.

"Actually they just first apply a protective charm over them so they don't get chipped and so there aren't smudges of fingerprints on them. It works loads better and is more efficient than having to apply daily cleaning charms," Ginny answered. Hermione nodded as she continued to admire the work of the Château de Delaclour and Ginny trumped up the last flight of stairs until they had reached the third floor.

Ginny paused slightly as she made to move down the hall, realizing that she had previously decided Hermione's sleeping arrangements for her. Her unease must have shown on her face for Hermione gave her a quizzical look before asking her, "Ginny, what?"

"It's just that, I'm sorry Hermione. You weren't here and Mrs. Delaclour said that they would have plenty of rooms for everyone to have their own when you arrived, but I'm so used to staying with you whenever you come over that I insisted that you were permitted to stay with me. I never stopped to think that you might want a room to yourself," Ginny explained in rushed breath. She knew her friend wouldn't mind, but she still felt silly for not considering her opinion first.

"Oh don't worry about it Ginny, of course I'd rather stay with you." Hermione soothed. It was then that Ginny forgot how angry she had been with her friend for leaving her here while she helped Harry. She truly loved Hermione like the sister she never had. With that she grabbed Hermione's arm and led her to the room.

She had made it; it was about half an hour until the end of the wedding festivities. She had been able to slip off her robes after the wedding and was clad in her peach dress and matching strappy shoes. She had to admit, she loved the height advantage the shoes lent her, and she could almost look Nicholas in the eyes this way. Over the past couple of hours she had come to appreciate Nicholas and his sense of humor, not to mention the fact that his veela charm had him surrounded by practically every female in the room, even Hermione looked slightly flushed when he commented on her hairdo.

Nicholas had been a faithful companion however, and had stuck by Ginny's side ever since he had been her escort down the aisle. Ginny had giggled at the time, it was an interesting sight; all of her brothers lined up on Bill's side and then Nicholas at the end standing next to Ron. She thought their interactions would be limited to the conversations before the wedding, but Nicholas had been placed next to her at dinner and had seemed genuinely interested in her conversational prattle. He only had eyes for her, and so did another wizard it would seem.

His constant gaze followed her wherever she went and she had flushed several times when she looked at him and found that he was staring at her. His gaze however, did not waver. She had floated around the entire night, being pleasant and friendly, meeting new people and enjoying the beautiful smells that the Delaclour estate had to offer. She was startled when she felt Nicholas place his hand in the middle of her back as she turned to look at him.

"Would you like to dance?" He extended his other hand for Ginny and she accepted it kindly, blushing under his gaze. Nicholas led her to the dance floor as the band struck up a waltz. Nicholas moved fluidly, guiding Ginny like an expert and leaving her feeling like one of the princesses out of her dad's Muggle books that he used to read to her. Little did she know that her excitement in this moment was causing a serious dilemma for someone else.

It's nothing. He kept telling himself. She had smiled at him like that plenty of times, but that was what was so infuriating about the entire situation. That smile was his smile. It seemed as though she was handing out smiles to anything that moved, but especially to this prat…what was his name?...Nicholas? Generally, Harry ignored most people when they gossiped about Fleur and her tendency to insert herself into affairs that weren't her own. Now, however, he felt personally betrayed that she had invited her extremely handsome cousin along to sweep his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—away.

Harry had watched her the entire day, and it proved to be the most masochistic day of his life. Watching her, experiencing her beauty and not being able to pull her into his arms and experience her passion. It's for the best, he kept telling himself, but the monster inside his chest was having a right fit over the way the Frenchman was handling what had once been his. Not that he viewed Ginny as property, she was nobody's property. That was what he liked about her.

"Wotcher Harry," Tonks plopped down and beamed at him. Her hair was brown, but not the mousy brown that it had been the previous year, this brown had a shine to it and it looked lovely piled on top of her head.

"You look wonderful Tonks."

"Thanks Harry, but I'm no Ginny," Tonks sighed and observed the same girl that Harry had been observing the entire night. Harry swallowed the snitch sized lump that had lodged itself in his throat and tore his eyes away from Tonks to stare at his shoes.

"W-What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Look at her! She has grown up so wonderfully. I'd kill for her curves, I mean, I could shift myself to something similar, but natural curves like that are hard to come by, and I could never achieve that shade of red. The way her hair falls perfectly across her shoulders," Tonks heaved a heavy sigh, "she reminds me of the kind of girls that always had the boys after them at school."

Harry nodded, completely understanding what Tonks was talking about. Ginny was extremely popular at school. Harry had heard her name in several conversations among the male population. She was beautiful, really, truly, stunning.

"I heard about you two," Tonks said, and Harry wondered how the news of his and Ginny's tragedy had reached so many ears.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Tonks offered.

"There's nothing to talk about." It was a direct answer and he hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings by his bluntness he was merely hoping Tonks would simply leave the subject bloody well alone. Something on the dance floor in that moment had caught Harry's eye. Harry could feel the heat slowly rise in his face as the Frenchman's hand slowly traveled lower and lower on Ginny's back.

"That's what I thought as well, about Remus you know." Harry nodded, not really paying any attention to her words.

"Yes, yes," he muttered. Tonks cast him a sideways glance and seemed slightly irritated but smiled knowingly just the same.

"It's always best to start small. Why don't you ask for a dance?" she advized, bodily lifting him out of his chair and pushing him forward. Harry stood frozen. He couldn't go over there. What would he say? He was never great with words, that was why he had Hermione, however she and Ron had bickered themselves into a corner and now Harry didn't know where they were. Harry turned to protest at Tonks, but found that she had moved to stand with Remus who had his arm around her. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed crimson before kissing her soundly.

Harry found that he ached for that feeling, any feeling. It seemed that he hadn't feltanything in weeks. He wanted to feel, he wanted to touch, he wanted to kiss, he wanted to explode with the joy that he felt when he was with Ginny. It was with this newfound determination that Harry made his way across the dance floor.

"He was bloody helping me with the wine I'd spilled down the front of my dress you prat!" Ginny screeched at Harry.

"Well, it didn't look like that from where I was standing," Harry shouted in return.

"What? You thought I was simply allowing him to touch my breasts?" Ginny's voice was not loud; it was low and gravelly—dangerous. Harry had heard her take this tone when she'd addressed Ron on occasion and he slightly feared for his life.

"Of course I didn't think you were allowing him to touch your," Harry made hand motions that had him blushing.

"Breasts, Harry! They're called breasts," Ginny fumed.

"I just—I…I don't know what I was thinking. It just made me angry that he got to touch you."

"Why?"

"Because you're mine!" Too late Harry realized his mistake and Ginny turned a shade of red he'd never even seen Ron achieve before. It was at this moment that she moved toward the door, Harry thought stupidly that she was going to leave, hex him and leave. She however seemed to have other plans as she shut the door locked it, and Harry could swear he heard her mutter a Silencing Charm followed by an Imperturbable Charm.

Oh shite! He thought. I'm a gonner.

"I am not property," she stated, moving toward him as he scrambled backward hoping to get out of her reach, but was soon stopped by a bed. He was stupid to have followed her up here; he just felt he needed to explain after he'd hexed Nicholas. Ginny had glared at him and had stormed off to her room and he had followed. Like a complete wanker he had followed her.

"You broke it off remember? It was the end of the year? You were being noble and stupid? Is that ringing any bells Mr. Potter? And I thought if I gave you time you would get over it, but here we stand, still not a couple and you think you can control me."

Harry felt his anger steadily bubbling inside him. How dare she put all of this on him?

"You're right; I should let you run around shoving your chest in men's faces, allowing them to fondle you!" It was completely off topic, but he was angry. It didn't even make sense, but word ceased to have real meaning in his mind. He was running on empty and all he could really think it that she looked really sexy when her hair fell in her face like it was doing in that moment. The fiery tendrils were slowly loosening themselves out of the intricate pattern they had been placed in upon her head.

"What?!"

"Yes Ginny. I got upset, but you are a tease. You haven't talked to me the entire time that I've been here—"

"You haven't talked to me—"

"And I think that a part of you wanted that wanker to touch you. You wanted to feel his hands on you, caressing you," Harry now had Ginny pinned to the bed, his hands placed on either side of her and his mouth whispering in her ear. Harsh words that he'd never known he was capable of. Ginny's face was flush and her eyes were dark, though it could have been due to the fact that the light in the room itself was dimming.

"Maybe you're right. I did want to be touched Harry. I liked the feel of his hands on me. I enjoyed when we were dancing and when he started moving his hand lower and lower and lower," Ginny whispered staring strait into his eyes, "And you know what else? I pictured it was you."

Harry didn't wait to hear anymore. He crushed his mouth against hers and moaned as she brought her hands to play in his hair. He was vaguely aware of the fact that they were now both on the bed and that he was pressing her into the mattress, searching her mouth with his tongue and mapping her body with his fingers.

Ginny made a tiny noise in the back of her throat that drove him crazy and made him painfully aware of his growing excitement. He broke the contact quickly, trying to grasp the logic in his haze encompassed mind. He looked down at the gorgeous creature beneath him and felt his breath hitch in his chest. Her lips were red and swollen and her chest was heaving as she tried to control her erratic breathing. Her vibrant hair was fanned out along the bed, had he done that? Hair the color of autumn and fire and and the Gryffindor common room and everything he loved in the world spread out and one thought entered Harry's mind, so primal and fierce that it frightened him, mine! He leaned down his head and licked and nipped at her collar bone which caused her body to shiver beneath his.

There was a sensible part of his brain that was screaming at him to stop and think about the consequences, but as he pulled away a sob tore from her throat and she begged him to, "Please, don't stop." It was then that he realized that he could never deny this beautiful creature anything she asked.

Ginny woke to a flurry of movement, light and sound. She sat straight in bed, trying to sort out the exact events of the previous night and blushed when she remembered her incredible night with Harry. Harry! Where was he? Ginny sought out her wand and used a handy spell she'd learned in a book entitled, Useful Spells For the Hurried Witch, which allowed her to magic her clothes on. She needn't be worried about receiving a letter about underage magic anymore. It wouldn't be detected in a house full of properly aged wizards and witches, and she highly doubted her beloved Hogwarts would be opening again. It was a good thing she was able to set things to rights for a figure burst into her room.

"Where did they go?" Mrs. Weasley pleaded with her daughter, but Ginny looked at her mother wondering who she could possibly be talking about.

"Where did who go?" Ginny asked, not liking the feeling pooling in her stomach. There was nothing more terrifying than a nervous Molly. Ginny's mother rushed over to the bed that was supposed to be occupying Hermione and it was in this moment that Ginny understood what was going on.

"They're gone?" Ginny knew it was a silly question, even as it left her mouth, but she felt the need to ask it anyway. She sent up a silent prayer that she would be wrong. Harry wouldn't just leave her after that. Then it hit her like a skrewt sting, there on her pillow, a parchment.

Ginny was faintly aware that her mother was still asking her hurried and unfinished questions, trying to grasp the scope of all that could have possibly happened. One thing was certain, they had left of their own accord and Ginny found that this caused her heart to ache before the anger hit, anger and disappointment. She knew better than to feel like a common slag, however she was having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that Harry had left her after they had expressed themselves in ways, she at least, had never expressed herself to a boy before. She didn't yet regret what had taken place, she knew she loved Harry, and she had wanted to show him how much.

Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned forward supporting her chin on top. She recalled what had happened shortly after she and Harry had…what? Made love? That seemed to syrupy like something out of Mum's favorite Celestina Warbeck songs. Had sex? That didn't encompass what had transpired here tonight, there was so much more involved than any three letter word could ever describe. And yet, Ginny remembers.

Ginny lay panting next to the strong figure beside her. She was still a little sore, it had been pretty painful, but there was something else, something after all the pain, something wonderful and Ginny had thought that her heart had never felt so full. She could feel Harry's body shifting beside her, she felt him pull her close as he planted a ghost of a kiss on her forehead.

Slowly she raised her head and gazed into his eyes, tracing his face with her fingers, he stopped her hand and kissed her slowly at first and then deeper. They explored each others mouths and Ginny felt him shudder when she placed her hand on his chest. It was enough to make her burst into flames. She was here, with Harry, and they had just taken a huge leap…and she smiles because they aren't dead, and Death Eaters aren't pounding at their door, and they just might live to see another day.

She truly loves this boy and staring into his eyes again, she wonders how to tell him.

"I love you," Ginny breathes with as much determination she can muster. She had never told him that before, but she was certain. With every stitch of magic in her being she was sure. She loved Harry and she wanted to be his and she wanted him to be hers.

She feels him stiffen as the words leave her mouth, and his eyes change slightly, they appear dimmer; closed. It is in this instant that Ginny knows what heartbreak is, for it feels as if a piece of her soul is being ripped out and placed back only to be ripped out again, about a million times over. She's also fairly certain that she can hear her heart begin to crack in the silence, but he kisses her lightly on the cheek and smiles at her before wrapping his arms around her middle, allowing her to burrow into his body.

"Sleep now," he says. And sleep she does.

Ginny chewed at her bottom lip incessantly. She glanced warily at the parchment on her pillow and vaguely recognized the fact that she was alone again. She could still hear sounds throughout the enormous house, but didn't care about them. She didn't want to look at the parchment yet. She didn't want to think about what this meant for her, all she wanted to do was sleep. And sleep she did.

A/N: Okay so, there's the prologue. Please let me know what you think. I already have the next three chapters completed but I'd like to hear everyone's opinions to see how this story is being received. Please no flaming such as, "This story sucks," or "You're retarded," or something of that nature. If you have constructive criticism it is welcome I simply ask that you submit it in a mature manner. Please, and thank you. Meg