Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. I will not go out of myself to think up an amusing disclaimer.

The Last Promise

The marble was so cold to her touch despite the sun that had shone on it the whole day. She carefully placed the bouquet of flowers at the foot of the white mass of Dumbledore's grave in front of her, and sighed, seeing a shadow of a cloud float over it. A couple of first years walked past, whispering and pointing at her, but she didn't pay them any attention. She had promised to do that and she would until the day of her death.

Yes, she had promised Harry, that night after Bill's wedding when he had woken her up, she had promised to bring flowers every year on that day. She had been so sleepy that she hadn't even understood most of what he said, but later, in the morning, when he was already gone, it made perfect sense. He gave me the key to how to destroy Voldemort, he had said. You must never forget him. Promise me that if Voldemort is defeated, every year on that date you will bring flowers to Dumbledore's grave. And she had promised, and she had reprimanded him on disturbing her at night.

Many things happened after that night. First, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared from the Burrow, notifying nobody of their destination or their mission. Later on, George had died, and Hagrid, and father, and Bill, leaving Fleur alone with an unborn child. But that didn't matter. A few days into June, about a year after their departure, Ron and Hermione had Apparated to the Burrow, looking underfed and weary, but alive nonetheless. And all they knew was that it was over. Voldemort was gone. And so was Harry.

And to think that the last thing she said to him was „Go back to sleep, I'm tired."

I'll leave now.

The flowers she had brought were not for Dumbledore, she knew that. The flowers she brought every year… Ginny let her gaze wander around the grounds of Hogwarts. This was where he had been at home. There was the beech tree under which they would sit, and there he had broken up with her after Dumbledore's funeral. Ginny smiled a sad smile at the memory. That was the most beautiful moment of her life, the moment when she had finally completely understood him, but she had then refrained from reading his thoughts, knowing that if he wanted her to know, he would tell her.

And he had told her everything. Only she had been too sleepy to see that. Dumbledore gave me the key… Have you ever heard anything of Horcruxes, Ginny?

And so she had spent most of the following year researching on them. And she had found nothing. She had thought she didn't remember the term correctly; after all, she hadn't paid much attention.

Bring flowers to the grave…

And so another year had passed. She let her hand slide off the marble tomb and listened intently, the song of a phoenix ringing in her ears. Every year Fawkes had been there, singing to her, only to her. She didn't even know whether the voice was real or only in her imagination, but that didn't matter; the important thing was that she hadn't forgotten, that she had kept her promise.

Promise me, Ginny… Ginny, do you know that… you have… really… red hair.

It was clear that he had intended to say something different, or at least it was clear to her in the next morning. At night she had just huffed, "Stop pestering me."

Now it was different. Oh, would anyone ever care enough to tell her that she had red hair! They would tell that her robes were beautifully cut and suited her, or that the freckle on her left cheek made it look as if she was smiling. But no one noticed her red hair, nobody besides Harry had looked at her deeply enough to see that. Nobody else had loved her enough to tell her that.

Dumbledore gave me the key… Promise me you will bring flowers…

And she had brought flowers. Year after year she had come to Hogwarts to pay her respect to the man who had made Harry sacrifice himself. When someone asked her why she went there, she said it was in honour of the man who had fought for better lives for the others, yet he was also the one who had ruined her life. But mostly nobody even knew she came; an odd student wandering around the grounds at this time of exams sometimes saw her and shot her inquiring looks, but mostly she was left alone.

I'll leave now…

The next morning was something she never wanted to think about. All the merriment of marriage was wiped out with a short cry. "They're gone!" mother had shouted at seven in the morning, waking up everyone in the house. She didn't need to elaborate; every single person knew whom she had meant. And Ginny had turned around in her bed and cried into her pillow.

They hadn't left her alone that morning. Everyone had made it their business to pass by her room, at first to check whether she was still there or had left with the others, then to see how she was doing, later to try and console her. But that hadn't changed anything; she didn't speak a word to them. She had already said too much.

Promise me, Ginny…

Over the course of the following years she had reprimanded herself numerous times on being too dim to notice that Hermione's bed was empty, or that Harry was wearing a cloak, or that his hands were shaking. Or that he had smiled too much; that smile which was usually accompanied with tears. "Okay, whatever, I'll do it. Just let me sleep…" But then again, she was really tired.

He gave me the key… And then, I'll leave now.

He had known it back then already, back at that night when he had woken her up to say goodbye. He had known he was going to die. She was sure it had been written in his eyes, only she hadn't cared to read. Why else had he asked her to remember? And how could he ever think she could forget? The singing of Fawkes the phoenix ringed in her ears as another small cloud floated over the monument to love.

Promise me, Ginny.

"Yes, Harry, I promise. I promise that I'll never forget you. I promise that I'll be back next year."

Ginny… you have really red hair.