Living With This Secret

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

"Ginny, truth, or dare?" Lavender asked mischievously.

"Dare," I stated with confidence. A Cheshire- cat like grin broke out on her face.

"Very well. I dare you to.." she glanced around the room. "To steal Hermione's wand and give it back to her tomorrow, without her knowledge."

This was the dumbest thing I have ever heard, considering that Hermione was sitting behind the ring of us students reading a book. Luckily, though, I had a plan. My twin brothers, Fred and George, were more often than not getting into trouble. They had opened up a Wizarding joke shop in the nearby town of Hogsmeade, and specialized in fake wands. With this knowledge I could easily fool Lavender into thinking that I had Hermione's wand. It would otherwise prove deadly to even consider stealing her wand.

"Fine," I said, with a bored look on my face. "I'll do it later, okay? Now then," I scanned the circle, looking for a victim. "Ron!" I stopped, acknowledging one of my other brothers. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," came his freckle- faced answer.

I decided to let him off easy. "Who is it that you... er fancy?" To some people, this may have looked like one of the more embarrassing questions, but it was a widely known fact that Ron liked Hermione, and in a more than friendship way.

"Er, Hermione, duh!"

What made this situation funny to me was that Ron had no idea that Hermione was sitting in the armchair behind us and could more than likely hear every single word we said. Boy was he in for a surprise later. But maybe it was for the best. They both liked each other. They just hadn't admitted it to each other, yet.

"Okay, let's see," Ron said slowly. The entire circle circulated with truth or dares until it came to Dean, who in turn asked Ron a question.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Ron said again.

"How did Harry die?"

Those four words were all that it took to make me lose it. It wasn't really a question that anyone had ever up frontly asked, everyone assumed that it was Voldemort. But I knew better.

This is why I found myself wandering through the hallways so late at night. Over the years I had grown to know Harry quite well, achieving that friendship that I yearned so long for with him. But the moment that I had finally reached that level, was the moment that I lost him.

It had been the summer before this year. I'm in my sixth now, Harry would have been in his seventh and final year. I had gotten word form an owl through Ron, that Harry was dead. It gave no detailed explanation of the occupancy of events, just that he died. What I remember most, was not crying that day.

But I was crying now, and not because he was dead. I was crying because I knew something that no one else did. Harry Potter was indeed not dead, and I was the only person who knew this.

No, I can say that I did not fill my head with a false fantasy as most might suppose about if he was alive. What happened was that the moment I relieved the letter, I knew something wasn't right. The pieces didn't fit together, and I myself did extensive research. I hoped that he was still alive, but at that time I thought that that would be stupid.

But then there was that one day in Diagon Alley. I saw a face, I saw his face. It was usually so beautifully sculpted with jet- black hair that fell in a ragged mess around his face and emerald green eyes that would cause my heart, among many, many others, to melt at the sight. But what my eyes saw was exactly the opposite. Gone was the boyish happiness and exuberance, from his face I saw a tainted innocence. He looked so sad, standing there, half hidden behind a table counter in an unknown store. A second later, though, he was gone.

Yet I knew that he was out there, doing something that would bring justice to this world. He would never run, he was too brave for that.

And I was the only person in the world who knew, I told myself over and over. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Sirius, Harry's godfather was well aware of what was happening, but everyone else showed no signs whatsoever of what really happened. Hermione and Ron definitely didn't know. And this being a secret, I couldn't tell them. I began to wander if Harry even knew that he was still alive, he sure as hell didn't think that anyone knew that he existed still.

I wandered back to my room at midnight exactly, drying my eyes. I so desired to let them all know that he was still there, to take away their and his pain, but I couldn't. My head hit the pillow of my bed softly. There would be little sleep tonight.

A small smile entered my face as I thought about all of the times Harry and I spent together. Some were good, and some were definitely bad. But in the end, it was all beautiful.

Once more I settled into an uncomfortable feeling of loss for myself. I didn't know what future lay ahead of me. Why, in the past year I realized that magic was becoming a chore and I didn't have my heart set on it like I used to. There were other things consuming my mind, mainly my dreams. It all started with one conversation I had had with Harry, two years ago.

I sat down and leaned up against the large maple tree near the lake, stretching my arms wide. Exams were just finished for the year. Harry sat next to me, no doubtedly enjoying the relaxing experience.

"What's wrong Gin?"

"Nothing," I said. "Why do you ask?"

"There's something, I can tell. I can see it in your eyes, you aren't happy."

Harry always had a knack for noticing things Ron or Hermione couldn't. It was one of the things that made him so likable.

"Maybe just a little unhappy."

"What is it?" he asked, turning himself towards me.

"I- I'm getting sick of this Harry. Its the same thing, day after day. When all I want is to, is to," I let out a sigh of frustration. "I would tell you but you'll laugh."

"I promise that I would never laugh at you," he said with a wink. "But don't tell me what it is, I'll figure it out sooner or later."

"I just want to do it, but so many things are standing in the way!"

"Ginny, no matter what happens, who enters or leaves you life, you have to follow your dreams. If its what makes you happy, then you should go for it, no matter what people tell you, no matter how hard it is to forget to hope or believe..."

I'll never forget that day. It inspired me beyond all natural reasoning. I had always wanted to do one thing and one thing only. To sing.

I discovered the talent my fourth year. When I sang, I felt such a warmth of spirit, body and mind. There was nothing that had given me sweeter relief then to hear those warm, sweet notes pour from my mouth. It wasn't the most reasonable of dreams, but it wasn't impossible.

Harry's words really hit home. Thanks to him, I wanted to give myself a life, and live like he could not. I made up my mind right then and there to fulfill my promise.