A/N I've always wanted to kill a character, the one who was the narrator, and then, one day during swimming at school, I thought of this. This is the first in a series of Harry Potter oneshots. Some will be canon with the original story, some won't, but I'm using this as a writing exercise.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

This wasn't how I was supposed to die. Yet, here I was, crumpled on the bank floor with a thick red liquid that I knew was blood dripping down my my side. Why? I asked myself.

Life is hard. A never ending struggle to identify right from wrong and good from bad. A futile attempt to make sure everyone else had what they wanted and needed while searching for your own happily ever after. Love and loss. Sadness, helplessness, weakness. Life is a curse that blesses you with the chance to find happiness, challenging you almost to your breaking point through the search.

And then you die. Death is easy. It's almost too easy to just give up. To stop trying. Death gives you a break from the frantic struggle that is everyday life. But it also means that you can do nothing more. I was dying.

My life flashed spasmodically before my eyes. From when I was only three years old to when I mistakenly cast my first spell. My first day at Hogwarts where my brother managed to crash the family car into the Whomping Willow. The second war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Lord Voldemort, finding Fred dead by the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Last year, when my love finally asked me to marry him. And today.

The past five minutes were especially clear. Everything had gone too fast for me to comprehend as it was happening, but now, after wards, it was all crystal clear. Coming to the bank to pick up Muggle money had been a bad idea. But how were we to know that there would be an armed robbery just as we were coming in.

Lock down. We'd only taken two steps in the door when bars slammed closed over the windows and covered the only exit. We heard a woman's scream and Harry instinctively pointed his wand at the men with ski masks.

"No, Harry!" I hissed. "We can't use magic right now. Not with all these witnesses. Think of the trouble we'd be in, the memory reversal spells." He growled at the intruders but shoved the wand back in his pocket. The shorter robber grinned maniacally and pointed a gun at the youngest bank teller.

"Don't hurt me," she whimpered. The woman- Tracy, her badge said- was barely more than a girl, certainly no older than nineteen. Her curly black hair came down to her waist, her blue eyes filled with fear. "Please, don't shoot me. My daughter's waiting for me to pick her up from the day care center." The man cocked the gun and flicked his wrist upward, shooting a bullet into the wall behind Tracy. Shattered glass exploded behind the counter.

All of a sudden, a cell phone that I recognized as Harry's was flying through the air, landing squarely on the back of the man's head and knocking him out. The gun skidded across the floor straight to the other, bigger man.

"You're gonna regret that," he snarled. Having taken care of the one man, Harry had moved on to the woman cradling her little girl by the wall in an attempt to calm them, and didn't notice the gun being pointed at him.

"Harry, look out!" I screamed. There was a small explosion as the bullet rocketed out of the gun, on a direct course for my husband. I didn't have time to think and only barely enough to react, throwing myself between the man and my love.

Not him. He couldn't kill Harry. Harry is the idol to every man, woman and child in the wizarding world. He's my husband, my one and only love. The only way anyone would harm him would be over my cold, dead body.

A sharp pain hit my chest as I was flying through the air. Suddenly, every breath pained me, and I was only getting half the air I needed.

"You killed her!" Harry snapped. "You killed my wife!"

"Harry," I breathed. "I'm not dead yet." Coughs racked my small frame, blood streaming up my throat. I wasn't quite dead, but I could tell that within minutes, my life would be gone.

"I'll fix you, Ginny," he promised. "I'll get you to St. Mundo's."

"I'm not going to live through this, Love."

"Don't say that! You will!"

"No I won't." As if to prove my point, I coughed up a mouthful of blood again. "There's no way to fix this. I think- I think it's my lung. I can't breathe right. But I love you, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'll never-" I was interrupted by another blood-spewing spasm, "I'll always love you."

"Don't talk like that! You'll survive! You will! You have to!"

"I love you." I closed my eyes. The bright fluorescent lights were hurting my head.

"You can't die yet!" he yelled. "I'll do anything to keep you alive!"

"There's nothing you can do, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'll be gone, but I'll be waiting for you," I whispered, trying to comfort him.

"Don't die, Ginny."

"It's my time, Love. I'm sorry."

"Is this really goodbye?" he asked sorrowfully.

"Not goodbye," I said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Just 'so long' or 'until we meet again'. You'll see me again. Just like you'll see your parents. I'll tell them you said hi."

"I love you, Ginny." Harry leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my bloody lips. I closed my eyes. "No! Don't die yet! I don't want this to be goodbye!"

"I'm just going to sleep, Harry," I comforted. "I love you." As I lay there, blood spilling from my chest and mouth, dripping from my side into a puddle on the floor, I felt the life seeping away from me. Just as there was only a single drop of life in me, I heard Harry whisper in my ear.

"Goodnight, Love."

A/N

Aww, how sweet.

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TLMA