Rating of G.

I do not own the characters, JKR does. I simply borrow them.

What really happened nineteen years later.

Nineteen.

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"The wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only for the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

Harry Potter trailed his hand along the smooth wood of the desk top as he turned away from it to leave. His fingers slipped away from the surface at the same time that he fell backwards into the black mass of a void. His mind was fogged with it, and it numbed his senses completely.

It was dark around him. Pitch black. And he was flailing. Harry could feel himself falling down in that consuming darkness and reached his hands out blindly in front of him to grab onto something, anything that might keep him from spiraling horribly downward into the abyss. His fingers contacted with nothing and his mouth was opened in a scream.

No words issued from his mouth.

Harry's throat felt as if it were collapsing in on itself. He couldn't breath, he was drowning in the black nothingness of space that was his own mind.

The next minute he was opening his eyes and gasping for air, his chest heaving.

Harry's pupils dilated at the onslaught of harsh white light that threatened to blind him. Tears seeped out of the corner of his eyes and he squeezed them shut. His hands covered his closed eyes. His mind was a disoriented mess as he felt his hands being gently removed from his face. Soft lipped kisses were pressed against each of his eyelids.

Ginny.

The light before his eyes dimmed slightly as the figure that was kissing all along his face now blocked out the light. He chanced to open his left eye by only the tiniest of a crack least the light assail him again. Red hair was all over his face. It curtained around him in thick ropes and kept him shielded from the light. He raised his arms weakly from his sides and curled them into the soft locks tickling his face.

Harry wondered when his arms had gotten so heavy.

Doesn't matter. Ginny's here. It's all over and Ginny's here.

Hot tears splattered across his face that were not his own. Harry frowned and lifted one of his hands cautiously to the face above his. His finger tips guided over the skin of Ginny's face and traced around her eyes, wiping the tears away. He wanted to talk to her, reassure her, but his throat felt sore from the abuse of disuse.

He could hear his name being mumbled above him and wondered what was going on.

Where are Ron and Hermione? What happened?

The noise in the room swelled around him and it was at that time that Harry realized that he and Ginny were not alone in the room full of bright light.

"Ginny," he whispered hoarsely.

"Harry. Oh, Harry, my sweet baby boy."

"Ginny?" Harry repeated slightly confused. He felt the stands of hair caught between his loosely clenched fists leave his hands as Ginny pulled back from him.

"Harry, you're okay."

Harry felt his throat collapse once more in the familiar downing like feeling. He was dead. Voldemort had killed him after all and all the white was heaven. That had to be it.

There was no other possible way that Lily Evans could be talking to him. Not as a copy from the Resurrection Stone, but the real person.

"Harry, Harry. Oh, Harry we were so worried."

Harry opened his mouth to ask if this was what heaven was like, all white light and being around the people that you loved the most.

"Mom? What...What..."

"The car accident, baby," Lily spoke quietly as she sat down next to him, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "The Healers said that you might not remember much, but...Harry. There was an accident."

"Accident?" Harry asked, trying to sit up. Lily eased him back down and rubbed small circles on the up turned palm of his hand.

"The car accident, Harry. Don't you remember? You've been in a coma for two weeks now. We didn't know if..." She trailed off and wiped the tears that were welling in her eyes away. Lily smiled widely through her tears. "But it's okay now. It's all okay. You're awake now and that's all that matters."

"Ron and Hermione. What about Voldemort? What happened?" Harry asked with increasing panic and confusion.

"Please call down, honey. Oh, I really should call your father. He'll be mad that I haven't already. But he's off with Sirius. I'm sure it can wait a few minutes."

"Sirius? But Peter...Wormtail...And..." Harry tailed off at the look of concerned pity on Lily's gentle face.

Poor thing. I wondered how he found out about Peter? James never talks about him and I know I never did. It's such a shame that Peter killed himself after graduation. How did Harry know about Peter of all things?

"Voldemort has been dead for nine years now, Harry," she told him softly.

"Dead?"

"You know about Neville Longbottom, Harry? The boy who lived? Remember?"

"Neville?" Harry yelped and winced when his slight outburst caused him some pain in his upper body.

"Yes," Lily answered slowly.

"Neville's not...I mean. Hogwarts and there was a big battle and everything. And I was there. Voldemort died..."

"Harry, honey, I don't know what you're talking about. You know you don't start Hogwarts until next year."

Harry's mouth opened slowly in horror. He looked slowly down at his body that lay bandaged in the white sheeted hospital bed. His ten-year-old body was covered beneath the thin sheets. He looked back up at her with the utmost horror. Lily smoothed his unruly hair back from his forehead.

"You must have had some crazy dream there, kiddo," Lily murmured as she placed a soft lipped kiss to his forehead and stood up to call James and tell him that Harry had awoken at last.

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