Roses on My Grave

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...J.K. Rowling does, and she did a fitting good job—that's why HP fan fiction is listed first in the most popular of books on fan fiction .net .

Chapter one: Death

"Harry, what are you doing here?" she took a seat next to him in the hot tub. The water passed through her, no ripples, no displacement, just like with Moaning Myrtle in his fourth year. "you really are worthless, aren't you?" she whispered, her hand coming up out of habit to smooth the hair away from his scar. A sad misery echoed in her voice.

He watched Ginny move around on the deck next to them, clearing away the table of last nights dinner and champagne.

"I'm amazed, Harry, you did everything they wanted you to do. You even married that slut." Hermoine flicked angry eyes towards the slut in question, both of them watching as an unknown wizard came out onto the deck wrapping his arms around Ginny's midsection. "at leas your not as bad as we were." Ginny turned around smiling, showing the man the blood crusted dagger before thrusting it into his chest. He slowly collapsed staring up at her with love and surprise.

"That's the same expression Potter wore when I killed him," she laughed.

The spirit materialized next to them, showing them a very disgruntled Ron Weasley.

"That's right, Ronald. There is no heaven or hell for us." Hermoine smirked at the un-polyjuiced Weasley. It was no secret to her that he had been in love with his sister, he had slept with Ginny on many occasion, though she hadn't realized it.

"Shut up, witch," he muttered.

Hermoine smirked, a cruel expression on her motherly face, "Oh do Shut it and help me with him" she sneered standing up. Ron stood automatically not wanting to look up to her and her down on him.

"why?"

"So he can get us out of this mess." she answered grabbing his right arm, Ron grabbed his left. "On three...one...two...three, Up!" they both pulled, struggling against some unknown weight as they pulled Harry's soul from his body.

Ron grunted. "Why can't we just leave him to heal and come back to off the bitch."

Hermoine glared at Ron, pulling them both towards the house. His house, Ginny's house, he was dead, killed by the woman he loved, killed by his wife, his school sweet heart.

"Stop pretending to be useless Potter!" Ron growled dropping his arm. Hermoine struggled to hold up Harry as some other unknown force pushed down on him.

"He is useless, remember," she made an angry gesture at Ginny who was pouring out the champagne, into the jacuzzi. Brilliant muggle contraption the jacuzzi, it was built to purify the water in the tub, a very effective way to hide any evidence of a laced drink. "He was practically Muggle to begin with and now even more so. Muggle souls rarely linger." Hermoine whispered. "He's fading," she finished sadly.

"That bitchy-witch!" Ronald snarled, glaring at his little sister.

"It was your plan too, you know, you've just as much blame in this as she does, you bastard" Hermoine sniped back at him. Ron began to mutter about greedy witches who always turned out to be bitches and later bitchy-greedy-witches.

-L-ine-B-reak-

"Harry, we're sending you back. Way back. You've been chosen again. You are the boy who lived. Nothing can erase that from your sou," Hermoine whispered to him. "Wizards keep secrets Harry, never let them know your name. Names hold power—they forgot and we remembered. Use your knowledge wisely."

"Don't let us turn out like this, Harry, save us." said Ron.