Ginny's POV about the Final Battle. I'm trying, here...
Maybe, somehow, in the back of her mind, Ginny had always known that it would come to this. That everything would suddenly break, that the Fates' string would be cut, and those who were left would pick up the pieces.
Maybe Ginny had always known he would leave.
Maybe that was why she had tried so hard to get over him, to get over her infantile crush on the Boy-Who-Lived.
Maybe that was why she had kept herself apart from Ron in their first few years, even though he had told her that she could be his friend, could be friends with them.
Maybe that was why she had made a best friend in Hermione Granger.
Maybe that was why she had gotten over her crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, and fallen head-over-heels with Harry Potter.
Maybe that was why she was numb now, instead of crying.
When the twins had gotten the call from Neville, she had insisted that they bring her along. There was no way she was going to stay at home—no matter what Mum said.
When she threatened to curse them—she knew they were thinking Bat-Bogey Hex, while she was going for the more creative ones—they had given in, but had told her that it was her fault completely, and that she had to tell Mum that.
She had agreed.
Arriving in the Room of Requirement and seeing Harry—alive, if a bit battered—had been like a punch in the gut. It was hard to see him, and not be able to go to him, to comfort him. He had been in full "Harry Potter" mode, and wasn't her Harry then.
He was the people's Harry.
He was the one who would save them all, and he knew it.
He was the one who was leading some of them to their deaths, and they knew it.
But they did not fight for him, but with him.
And all of them had made their choice—just as Ginny had.
If she had known that it would cause such heartbreak, would she have done it? Yes, she would have.
She would have done it for those stolen sunny moments on Hogwarts grounds, when everything was fine. She would have done it for that kiss; that wonderful, searing kiss they had shared in the Common Room. She would have done it, even throughout all of the heartache and pain of not knowing where they were in the past year.
Through it all, she still would have fallen in love with Harry Potter.
Her mum had yelling at her, telling her she had no right to be there—even if she had fought practically all year—had hurt, but not as much as Harry agreeing with her, until she had seen her face and had known what he couldn't tell her, but was trying to in his clumsy, boyish way.
He was fighting for her.
Not for all of the others. Not for Ron, or Hermione, or Remus and Tonks, or even Teddy, his new godson.
Harry James Potter was fighting for her.
Plain, simple Ginny Weasley.
And so she had agreed to stay, as had Tonks. Ginny had understood, as well, when Tonks was pacing around the room, muttering to herself. She had comforted her, sat her down, distracted her.
And then Harry had come into the room, and made them leave. Immediately, she had gone to help, to fight. Tonks had sped off in a different direction to find Remus, and Ginny had ignored Harry's voice from behind her, yelling at her to come back, for if she had looked at him, she would have thrown herself at him, and Harry did not need that.
The battle had been unlike anything she had ever imagined. She hadn't really fought at the Ministry, but she was fighting now.
Spell after spell she had flung into the masses of white-masked humans, knocking down one after another. And still they had come. For every one she had felled, another had taken its place, until she was sobbing with fear and hopelessness through the spells.
She hadn't stopped her casting, not even when Remus' form fell, or when Tonk's pale form, her hair it's true color for the last time, had fallen as well. She had just continued on, shooting spell after spell at the place where their killer was.
And then her mum had been there, casting beside her, and Ginny had known why no one wanted to cross Molly Weasley. Her temper was backed up by power.
Ginny had stopped, finally, when the battle seemed to cease, to pause, and Tom's voice rang out over the grounds. She was wanted so badly to go find Harry, to hold him, to have him comfort her, but her mum had pulled her along to the Great Hall.
She hadn't looked at the bodies, lying so still or crying out in pain. Her eyes had stayed shut, until she heard her mothers' cry of pain, until she heard a new sound, one she had never heard before.
George was crying.
Without even thinking, Ginny had raced to him and put her arms around him, knowing what had happened. She soothed him, crying tears that mixed with the blood and sweat on her face, hearing Ron and Hermione's wracking sobs, and not hearing Harry's.
When she asked them, Hermione had responded between tears that she hadn't seen him, that she thought he had gone up to the Headmaster's office. Ron had pulled her to him then, and Ginny had turned away, silent.
Everyone had someone, except her.
She needed him.
But others needed her, and so she went to help the ones lying on the battlefield, some already gone, others almost there.
And when she was comforting a young girl whom she knew would not make it, she felt him.
Her Harry was there.
He was watching her.
And she began to hope again.
She had heard Tom's laugh, throughout the grounds, and had heard what he said.
And her world had fallen apart.
When she saw Hagrid, standing there with Harry, looking so small and defenseless, she had lost herself for a moment, had felt the ground giving way, had thought she was about to faint.
Then she had seen Ron's face.
Ron, who had stood by Harry when he could, had only left him once. Ron, who practically worshipped the ground Harry walked on, not for his fame but for his goodness. Ron, who's best friend, his brother, was lying there, dead, by a monster's hands.
And Ginny was not surprised to see the rage crowd out the disbelief and sorrow, and she knew that Ron would not give up until he felt that he had wreaked havoc on his enemies, and that the monster who killed Harry was burned.
Hermione's face wasn't any better. Ginny could not bring herself to look at her for long.
Professor McGonagall shouted, and all of Hogwarts listened.
And then the fighting started again.
When Ginny tuned back in, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, was ducking the spells, weaving in and out, was dodging the Killing Curse.
And then her mother was there, the way she always had been, saving her. Ginny had watched in horror as a spell came towards her mother, only to be stopped by a shield spell so powerful that it had to come from one person only.
When her brain found out that Harry Potter was alive, her world righted itself, and all the little pieces of her heart mended.
Harry was back.
And he was hers.
Done! Let me know what you think!