Prologue
Ginny,
I'm bad at writing letters. I'll just apologize right off for this one, because it's guaranteed to be horrible. That said, I'll get right down to the point. We're at the end, Ginny...at least I think we are. From what Ron, Hermione, and I have been hearing, albeit a little illegally, something big is going to happen soon. In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has mostly likely succeeded in finally killing me.
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this, it might just makes things worse for you. But I couldn't leave you with nothing. You've been amazing these past few years, and I've never even told you. I've never even let on once...I'm a complete git, Gin, for not being with you while we had time, and I know that, and I can't even explain why I always stopped myself. All I can really say now is I'm sorry.
I need you to promise, me, though, Ginny, that you'll move on, and that you'll be all right. I'm not worried about Ron and Hermione, or anyone else...they have each other. You're different, though, and I know it. When I die, I need to know that you're going to be okay. I need to know you're not just going to survive. I need to know you're going to live, Gin.
Love always,
Harry
Sixteen year old Ginny Weasley sat immobile at Harry Potter's bedside, clutching the letter in her hand. His letter to her, saying things she had wanted to hear from him for years. Somehow, now that she'd heard them, she didn't feel any better. Ginny sighed and covered her face with her hands, wanting to cry and get rid of the horrible, hollow feeling of utter emptiness inside of her, but she couldn't. She figured she'd cried enough in the past week to last a lifetime, anyway, and simply didn't have any tears left. Finally, she raised her head and gazed at Harry's still form, barely seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
Ginny swallowed around the lump in her throat and glanced back down at the words on the page that Hermione had delivered to her just minutes before. She said Harry had given it to her the day before the final battle with Voldemort and his army, which had taken place at Hogwarts, instructing her to give it to Ginny in case something happened to him. Something definitely had. In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has most likely succeeded in killing me. She shook her head slightly, wondering if Harry would actually be better off dead, rather than in this state of limbo, somewhere in between life and death...somewhere no one could reach him. Hermione said it was what Muggles called a coma, something some people woke up from in a week, some years, and others never. Ginny wouldn't let herself think of the last possibility.
No one was quite sure why Harry was in a coma. Of course, they knew it was from finally, once and for all, defeating Voldemort. However, no one had anticipated what vanquishing the Dark Lord would do to Harry, physically or mentally. No one had been able to predict if he would live or die...and no on had anticipated this, either.
Ginny read the letter again, beginning to feel agitated and trapped. She didn't know what Harry meant when he told her to live. What could life possibly consist of now that she was missing a brother, countless classmates and friends, and Harry? She was being cheated out of her seventh and final year of school, due to the fact that Hogwarts was destroyed in the Final Battle, as it was now being called, and had no idea where to even begin to rebuild herself. Harry was right when he said Ron and Hermione would be fine because they had each other. They did, and she, Ginny, had no one.
"So how am I supposed to just live, Harry?", Ginny whispered, starting to finally feel the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, "what am I supposed to do?" Ginny quietly stood up, leaning down to smooth Harry's messy black hair from the lightening shaped scar on his forehead, a reminder of the first time he defeated Voldemort.. She leaned down and softly kissed it, trying to talk herself into a brave state of mind, wanting him to be at peace wherever he was. She didn't know if he could hear her, or if he was simply gone, just a body with no soul. She only knew he was far too young to have faced what he'd faced in his life, and she loved him far too much not to honor his wishes, no matter what they were of her. "Okay," she said out loud to the only boy she'd ever really and truly loved, "you want me to live...I'll try."
Ginny,
I'm bad at writing letters. I'll just apologize right off for this one, because it's guaranteed to be horrible. That said, I'll get right down to the point. We're at the end, Ginny...at least I think we are. From what Ron, Hermione, and I have been hearing, albeit a little illegally, something big is going to happen soon. In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has mostly likely succeeded in finally killing me.
I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this, it might just makes things worse for you. But I couldn't leave you with nothing. You've been amazing these past few years, and I've never even told you. I've never even let on once...I'm a complete git, Gin, for not being with you while we had time, and I know that, and I can't even explain why I always stopped myself. All I can really say now is I'm sorry.
I need you to promise, me, though, Ginny, that you'll move on, and that you'll be all right. I'm not worried about Ron and Hermione, or anyone else...they have each other. You're different, though, and I know it. When I die, I need to know that you're going to be okay. I need to know you're not just going to survive. I need to know you're going to live, Gin.
Love always,
Harry
Sixteen year old Ginny Weasley sat immobile at Harry Potter's bedside, clutching the letter in her hand. His letter to her, saying things she had wanted to hear from him for years. Somehow, now that she'd heard them, she didn't feel any better. Ginny sighed and covered her face with her hands, wanting to cry and get rid of the horrible, hollow feeling of utter emptiness inside of her, but she couldn't. She figured she'd cried enough in the past week to last a lifetime, anyway, and simply didn't have any tears left. Finally, she raised her head and gazed at Harry's still form, barely seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
Ginny swallowed around the lump in her throat and glanced back down at the words on the page that Hermione had delivered to her just minutes before. She said Harry had given it to her the day before the final battle with Voldemort and his army, which had taken place at Hogwarts, instructing her to give it to Ginny in case something happened to him. Something definitely had. In fact, if you're reading this, it's all ready happened, and Voldemort has most likely succeeded in killing me. She shook her head slightly, wondering if Harry would actually be better off dead, rather than in this state of limbo, somewhere in between life and death...somewhere no one could reach him. Hermione said it was what Muggles called a coma, something some people woke up from in a week, some years, and others never. Ginny wouldn't let herself think of the last possibility.
No one was quite sure why Harry was in a coma. Of course, they knew it was from finally, once and for all, defeating Voldemort. However, no one had anticipated what vanquishing the Dark Lord would do to Harry, physically or mentally. No one had been able to predict if he would live or die...and no on had anticipated this, either.
Ginny read the letter again, beginning to feel agitated and trapped. She didn't know what Harry meant when he told her to live. What could life possibly consist of now that she was missing a brother, countless classmates and friends, and Harry? She was being cheated out of her seventh and final year of school, due to the fact that Hogwarts was destroyed in the Final Battle, as it was now being called, and had no idea where to even begin to rebuild herself. Harry was right when he said Ron and Hermione would be fine because they had each other. They did, and she, Ginny, had no one.
"So how am I supposed to just live, Harry?", Ginny whispered, starting to finally feel the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, "what am I supposed to do?" Ginny quietly stood up, leaning down to smooth Harry's messy black hair from the lightening shaped scar on his forehead, a reminder of the first time he defeated Voldemort.. She leaned down and softly kissed it, trying to talk herself into a brave state of mind, wanting him to be at peace wherever he was. She didn't know if he could hear her, or if he was simply gone, just a body with no soul. She only knew he was far too young to have faced what he'd faced in his life, and she loved him far too much not to honor his wishes, no matter what they were of her. "Okay," she said out loud to the only boy she'd ever really and truly loved, "you want me to live...I'll try."