This is my entry for Women's Football Round 1.1 in the 2012 Hogwarts' Games on the HPFC. I had Harry/Ginny as my pairing.

I own neither Harry Potter nor Hamlet.

Never Gone

There was no definite point in her life when she realized how strong her feelings really were. There was no moment when she could straight out say, "I'm in love with Harry Potter." It was a gradual process, almost as easy as breathing.

There had been rumors in Witch Weekly, that she'd used love potions or enchantments because there was no way that a simple "fan girl" could have captured the heart of the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher of Voldemort! (The publishers and most of the staff were a bunch of hypocrites who had neither met Harry or Ginny. Junior Editor Lavender Brown had enough information about Ginny's first and second year to make a reasonable assumption.)

Ginny almost groaned at the very thought of first year. She'd acted like a puppet half the year to Riddle and the other half was spent trying to learn about Harry. It was obsessive, odd and could safely be considered fan-girlish, but Ginny, like most raised in the magical world, had heard fantastic stories about the little boy who defeated Voldemort.

The "Harry" of her imaginings was her best friend as a child. Six older brothers weren't always very good at playing with their baby sister. She was fragile and unable to handle their rough-housing. (Ginny almost let out a snort at that. She definitely proved she was anything but fragile.) The mystical Harry Potter had seemed the perfect candidate for an imaginary friend, obviously powerful, courageous and very brave, but also sweet and willing to accept her and treat her as an equal.

Ginny knew even at the age of eleven that she didn't like "Harry;" she had liked the idea of Harry, a perfect companion. It was curiosity because even a dream had to have some basis in reality. Ginny had stopped trying to rationalize her younger self's ideas a while back, they were quite confusing and naïve in hindsight.

There was a point, however when Ginny realized she understood Harry Potter as a person. She had met Harry, of course they'd talked (he was best friends with Ron, it was inevitable) and he spent time at the Burrow, but it was almost like he wore a mask she couldn't penetrate. She was just another member of Gryffindor, Ron's little sister, a name without really any personality behind it.

Her fourth year changed everything. War was at the back of anyone who had sense's mind. Umbridge seemed to drill the point home. She really was a perfect example of that quote Dad liked so much from that famous Muggle writer, Shake Spear (or something like that) "The lady doth protest too much." The insistence there was no war was too forceful, to hide the obvious truth.

Dumbledore's Army helped as well. It was their first few moments where he was actually able to see her as an individual. Harry was an amazing teacher, even as a fifth year, who if you looked closely was almost more concerned about failing you, than anything else. The battle of the Department of Mysteries showed them both in a new light. War could mature anyone and truly knowing you were able to trust someone in any circumstance was a blessing.

Meaningful conversations filled that year and their connection began to form. Life was at a transition. Change was truly a terrifying thing and their lives were surrounded by it. Waiting was worse than actually being able to do anything. There was strength in numbers. Friends could become as close as family.

Ginny almost smiled. Their friends became their family as the war raged. Family wasn't just who you were related to; it was who you ached for to know if they were fine (even if someone always took "Fine" to mean "not dying.")

Most women would say their wedding was the magical moment where they really realized the depth of their love. Ginny was not most women. She had enjoyed it, surely, but there was something more comforting in long conversations after exhausted days, where there were no disguises, no dress robes, just the two of them.

(Even now, she couldn't remember parts of it, only how worried she was that George had actually followed through on his promise to dye his soon to be brother-in-law blue. She wouldn't even have had the heart to hex him. It was something he had planned with Fred too long ago.)

As Ginny grew older, she never did accept waiting. The nights of the Auror missions were the hardest after the war. There were weeks when she wouldn't hear anything from Harry at all. That information was too classified to be compromised. Ginny hadn't expected to deal with any of the uncertainty after the war, but she tolerated it. Harry was living his dream as an Auror, and it wasn't like she had given him an easy time when she played for the Harpies.

On the long nights of the raids, she would sit on the sitting chair in the front room. The fireplace would burn brightly, awaiting his return. In her lap would either be a Quidditch article for the Prophet, which she had neglected until the last moment, or baby Albus, an adorable baby, but truly a nightmare when anyone tried to get any sleep.

James was almost undeniably sitting on the rug next to her feet. Harry and Ginny had long since stopped trying to get James to stay in his room. He was able to escape no matter what the wards on his room. Ginny had watched him as he crawled out of his toddler-sized bed and skipped across the floor, avoiding the trigger points where Bill had rooted the wards. James was good company for his mother, almost always quiet. His days of mischief seemed to tire him out, so that by the time his father was home, James was fast asleep.

One fateful night had stuck in her memory. Ginny glanced at the clock. Her finished article lay scattered on the table, where she had placed it hours ago. She would have begun pacing if it weren't for a two-year-old Albus finally asleep in her lap. It wasn't exactly worry that filled her, although some of injuries from his last mission against the rogue foreign officials had taken weeks to heal. It was more that she couldn't do anything.

When the flu flared, two things happened nearly simultaneously. James seemed to snap out of his slumber and Ginny was ready at the fireplace to see what tonight's damage was.

Harry expected his welcome, but was quite happy to see it anyway. "I swear I'm fine!" he said, raising his hands in the air in an act of surrender.

"My terms of fine or yours?" Ginny asked, circling her husband like a bird of prey, almost like her mother would have, searching for the sign of delay.

"Whose definition of fine includes thinking of ways to kill Cormac McLaggen? Kingsley put him back on my squad, apparently, I'm the only ones who can control him," Harry almost let out a laugh. "And we thought he was worse in school."

"Did Ron try to strangle him again?"

Harry gave an all too innocent shrug. "If he did, I didn't see anything."

A knowing smile seemed to grace both of their lips at that. James, now tired of waiting as well as just plain exhausted, bumped into his father's legs and joined the conversation. "Daddy, why do you do it?" the little boy whined.

Harry ruffled James' black hair, the hair nearly identical to his own. He glanced at Ginny first, almost subconsciously, as if that's all he needs to find the right words, words their young son will understand. "Because my work is something fun, a puzzle and a game all rolled up in one. It's the second most exciting thing I could ever do."

James rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake just a little bit longer. "What's the best thing?"

"I think I'm looking at him," James smiled as he understood what Harry meant, "and Albus and the new baby when they get here." Harry bent down to scoop up the small boy to carry him up to bed. James snuggled closer to his father. Harry continued talking, "I love your Mum very much too." He leaned across the boy in his arms to give Ginny a kiss.

"Mum, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine Al," she said avoiding the searching stare of her middle child. He could read her emotions better than anyone.

It was a well-established fact that Ginny Potter nee Weasley didn't cry very often, but her tears were etched clear as daylight on her face.

"Al, just stop, Mum's only fine in the Potter sense of the word. There's nothing we can do to change that," Lily's face had a glare on it as she reprimanded her older brother. The glare was softened by the tear tracks covering her face as well. Two little strawberry blonde heads hid their faces in her shoulder.

Teddy took a step closer to the women who practically raised him, as she looked about ready to collapse. Ginny repeated, "I'm fine," looking up at Teddy. They had really done a wonderful job. The man in front of her was still distinguishable from the little boy she had thought of as her first son. His hair was in its natural form, light brown although it was starting to look a little gray. Teddy's eyes were green for the occasion. Ginny glanced back at the ground. Another tear hit the snow.

James was the only one who hadn't said anything. The former prankster no longer had any thing to say that could make this situation any better.

Ginny felt a hand slip into hers. Bianca Lupin just smiled up at her grandmother. It was a small teary smile. Ginny tried to give one in returned, but it felt stiff and unnatural. Bianca was the eldest of her grandchildren and was trying very hard to act older than her fifteen years, trying to stay strong.

They had joked that Bianca was going to be a Medi-witch because of all the accidents her brothers and uncles seemed to get into. He'd never get to see it.

"Mum, let's go inside. The temperature is going to keep dropping. Even warming spells won't hold soon," James insisted in a vain attempt.

She didn't even bother responding. The December wind ripped through the Godric's Hollow cemetery.

"Is Grandpa really going to be gone for a long time?" Sarah asked. Ginny almost smiled at Sarah's innocence. She was after all only five. Sarah hadn't grasped the concept of death and what it entailed. "I won't get to see him anymore?"

Ginny wiped away her tears and knelt down on the frozen ground next to Sarah. Ginny gently tugged on the end of Sarah's black pigtails. "Grandpa's not going to be here physically, where we can see him, but we'll remember. He's not going to be gone, not while we're still here. He's never going to be gone"

Ginny glanced at the other Potters, their children all grown up with family's of their own. If she had believed there was such a thing as a soul mate, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter might have been soul mates, but Ginny didn't pay any mind to that nonsense. She had known him as her best friend, her husband, her partner, her perfect companion, and over a hundred more things that didn't seem to fit right. But one thing she was certain, she loved him more than she had thought humanly possible.

I hope I made it clear that Ginny was reminiscing in the first part. I'm not quite happy with it, but I'm on vacation halfway across the country. In all honesty I'm happy to be able to get anything posted for this round at all.