Disclaimer: Basically, Ginny, Harry, Ron, the Burrow, the Weasly family, Hermione, even the Ministry of Magic – belong to JK Rowling.  Hope you knew that already.

                Notes: I became a G/H shipper about a week ago and haven't been satisfied with the stuff out there.  It's badly written, pointless and totally unnecessary.  So, I decided to try my hand at this stuff.  Feel free to flame me, praise me, criticize me or worship me – just review, please!


Ginny didn't care if she never saw her wand again. She'd gone to the Ministry of Magic and filed a temporary Release of Powers.  Her wand had been locked in a high-security vault.  Just for a little while, she'd promised herself.  I need to get over Harry.  But she was feeling so great, working as a Muggle reporter, that she didn't want to see the wand again.

                She could still remember the day, not yet a year ago, when Harry had woken her early and proposed to her.  The answer had been obvious – but her glee had been short-lived.  Because Harry Potter had disappeared that afternoon.

                It made no sense.  With Voldemort dead, and the Death Eaters all in prison, there was no one to kill Harry.  Except for Malfoy, his enemies had disappeared.

                "Ginny?" Ron suddenly apparated in her apartment.

                "Ron!" She scolded.  "I could've been naked."

                "I'm your brother," he said with a grin. 

                "So, what do you want?" Ginny asked, hands on her hips.  Ron's expression grew serious.

                "We found a letter on your bed.  Guess someone thought you'd see it.  We think it's from Harry, but we didn't open it.  It's addressed to you."

                Ron held out a piece of parchment that had been sealed.  Ginny's name was on the front, and it looked rather worn.

                My Dearest Ginny,

You probably hate me now, if you're reading this.  Why would I propose to you and then run away?  Am I a coward?  I hope that you miss me, but I didn't want to do this.  The Ministry of Magic found evidence that the Dark Lord's memory – remember Tom Riddle? – is trapped in some old Muggle ruins.  I am the only one who can vanquish them.  I set out this afternoon and I don't know if I will come back.  I love you; Ginny, I hope that you will love me when I return.  I will come home on December first, or you will receive notice of my death.

Love,

Harry

                "Ron, what's today?" Ginny asked slowly, her eyes scanning the letter.

                "November 30," he replied.  "Why?"

                "Harry's…Harry's coming home on the first of December, Ron."  She wiped a tear from her eye.  "It was Ministry stuff that kept him away…top secret, of course."

                "Doesn't that make you happy?" Ron asked, skimming the letter.

                "I don't know," Ginny admitted.  "I'm happy right now – thought I'd gotten over him.  And, I can't believe he proposed to me like that.  It was as if he knew he might die and he wanted to die knowing that I loved him.  Don't know if I shall forgive him."

                "Ginny," Ron admonished.  "You love the man, don't you?  You'd hate yourself if you told him you didn't like him.  It's a lie and it would hurt you and Harry both.  Come on; we'll tell Mum and Dad, get your wand and you can come back to the Burrow."

                Ginny mumbled something very softly.

                "What?"

                "Don't want my wand," Ginny said, but only a bit louder.

                "Stop being foolish," Ron said with a laugh.  "Ginny, you're stuck in a rut, and we all know it.  You aren't happy, and you aren't going to be unless you get Harry back."

                "But what –" She took a deep breath.  "But what if he's dead?"

                "Forget about that," Ron told her.  "We're going back home."