We'll never forget you, a harry potter fanfic

We'll never forget you...

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the story.

Summary: :ONESHOT: Ginny wakes up every morning, crying and feeling guilty, so one day she decides to burry her past behind her, by visiting her three beloved one's graves one last time.

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People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. Marcel Proust

Ginny woke up a cold morning in her empty apartement. The frost had taken over the windows, leaving white crystals wherever she looked. As she approached her hand to the window, steam formed on the clear glass. She quickly pulled it away, her whole body shivering. The fire had gone out hours ago in her troubled sleep, that was haunted once again by the war. She screwed her head up in frustration and tried to sort out the images out of her head.

That was it. The war. The cold war, people expected years ago, the bloodwar. Screams, yelling, shouting filled the air, curses flew around the castlefloors, jets of red and green striped her ear, causing her to duck. Chaos reigned now, bodies fell limp onto the stone underneath them, dead.

Ginny quickly snapped out of her thoughts, realising she was crying. Hot liquid flood from her eyes and rested in her oustretched hands. Crying was, what she had done for the past weeks. At morning, daytime and night. She woke up in tears, rocked forwards and backwards the whole time, and fell asleep out of exhaustion. She hadn't looked in the mirror since... the funeral. A white funeral, like Dumbledore's had been. Only this time, not only one was burried. Three brave and courageous fighters had continued to their end, and the end of the war. They were injuried, broken inside, weak, afraid, outnumbered, but they continued without hesitation.

Ginny looked around, searching for familiar faces. She clutched her wand in sweaty hands and shouted spells, but she couldn't even hear her own voice, only see the blur of the light that exploded from her wand. Like in slowmotion, a deatheater fell to the ground, a shocked expression on his face. Ginny had just killed without realising. It had been out of desesperation, selfdefense. There was no other explanation, she wan't a murderer.

Once again, the red-head thought about the horrible day, that decided history. Slowly she moved away from the window. It couldn't go on like this. Her past always caught up with her. How could she let it go, when she always though about it? How would she ever could walk around a city without getting panic attacks? How will she ever leave this room? Shaking her head, she went to her closet, that stood at the far angle of the small room. She had moved out of the house, not willing to bear any of her mother's cries for her son. She couldn't even bear her own tears, but the sadness that occupied her heart, took control. She still remembered Harry's words before the battle. Encourageing, heartbreaking, lonely words she did'nt want to understand. But she did. More than she should have. Those words always preceeded something bad. And of course she knew, why he said them. That one little sentence, but that big meaning. Ginny touched her lips, still feeling the burn of the the last kiss she received from him, the love of her life... Compassionate, full of love, so reassuring she didn't want to let go. It was too much, but she had to stay strong, at least for Harry, if it wans't for the whole school, or her friends. Only then she had felt safe. It had been the only moment in her life, and it would never happen again. Moisture crept up to her eyes at this thought. Ginny wanted to let them run, let her angst, her agony run. She couldn't. It was as simple and as complex as that. She just couldn't.

At that moment, she saw a glimpse of red hair. A slight wave of relief run through her body, instantely removed with anxiousness. She had to fight, to save lives, vanquish deatheathers, she had to be strong! But she didn't feel that way. Weakness, numbness, angst was what she most feared, and all of that slid through her veins, every cell of her brain. As her kness grew less and less confident, she watched her life go past her. Memories of her childhood, her brothers, her parents, Hogwarts, her friends, Harry... she looked around, searching him. And on top of the stairs she saw him. Dueling against no other than Voldemort, or was it a Deatheater? He was cloaked, his cap tied over the head. A white and bloodshot hand appeared from his sleeve, a stick of wood grabbed by the long and sharp fingers. He seemed to float above the ground. Harry looked hateful at him. His lips were moving, but Ginny didn't catch a word.

Ginny didn't remember his voice anymore. She had forgotten it long ago. But she still knew why she had fallen in love with him, or how he used to walk around, sit, laugh, smile... and most of all the softness of his lips, the sweet smell of musk and wood and his touch itself. All the things she wanted to forget. All the things she couldn't forget, because they were too important and every little memory had a history. Her history, her life. The first time she had seen him, it had only been admiration, a little twitch in her heart, not more than the sight of her loving brothers. But the crush had grown deeper and deeper into love... and he crushed it like a rose into her heart, when she found out the story about him and Cho. At that time she had been silly, had been going out with other boys to get revenge, for something he couldn't even be accused for. Love is something strange. Beautiful at the same time, painful, but lovely. Actually you can't explain it, but you still try. It just always sounds like it's not enough. Ginny would simply describe it as magic. The magic, only two people can feel for each other. A bond not even the Angel of Death can break. Ginny was sure it couldn't. Her love for him was as strong as ever, even through heaven, where she expected him to be.All he had done for the whole word, could only be rewarded by being send to heaven. Even that wouldn't be enough.

A deatheater attacked her the very moment of shock, and she fell to the floor. She felt her nose break and pain shot into each part of her. She had been to absorbed with Harry. Slowly she grabbed her wand and cursed him back. Not one more second had she to waste on the man that hade made her life living hell. As she looked around to help others, she stumbled over a dead body. A dead body with... Ginny trembled at the sight of her brother. Her hands were shaking, hatred welled over her, but most of it lust for revenge. She kneeled down to him and swayed a hand over his face. His eyes closed and he looked peaceful, as if he slept. A sleep of eternity. Forever more. Sleep well, brother... those were her mental words to him. Her last wish for him, as she lifted her shivering body. Cold surrended her. Glacial stillness. The war had just begon, and already was one dead... a dear sibling.

With a numb sound, her knees gave away and she landed on the carpet, her eyes blank. It was shocking, what an effect a dead person has, if it was of the closest persons you had ever known. It gives you strength, the strength of hate. Not a good one, but one you can not extinguinsh until you would get your revenge. Even the exterior pain just disapeers, as if someone just shot the whole world, or if someone had cast the Imperius cuse on you. Not one care, apart from the promise you make to yourself when say you want to do something, even if it's bad...

Even more spells swirred through the air, more bodies fell to the ground, injured, under a curse, or dead. Ginny overwhelmed the feeling of loss inside her and fought harder than before. Until every single piece or person bad would be gone from this battlefield, she would not rest, not cry, just trust her wand and herself. The push she needed to continue was what she got, in a bad way of course, but it was still effective. Deatheaters vanished one by one from the surface of her eye vision. So much left behind, but still an immense number to wipe away. Ginny saw Hermione, Neville, Luna, the Patils and the aurors do their best. No one had knew that Voldemort would recruit so many dark wizards and witches, no one suspected he would even try after the scene at the end of last year's schoolyear. Already then a member of her family had been gravely injured. No one apart Dumbledore died... Dumbledore, why couldn't he be here? Why did he have to die?

Ginny got up and walked through the door on her right. She needed to calm down. A cold shower was indeed what she had the need for right now. Just the thought of Dumbledore made her want to throw objects around. Glasses, pictures, everything she could lay her hands on. Again she balled her hands and an eyebrow twitched at the though of his murderer. Harry had seen... he had been present at the time of his death... watching, impossible for him to act. When Harry had told her this story, about a year later, he shed tears of sadness, tears of anger, tears of guilt. Ginny always asked herself, why he was feeling guilty, for what he should be furious at the there timly headmaster for not listening to him... but who could know that Snape was in Voldemort's services, a spy all those years, a traitor, a deatheater. Only suspiciouns were made at that point, not even Harry was sure himself, although he was the one who believed the least in the defense against the dark arts teacher. The blackhaired, gryffindor-hating teacher had served Dumbledore for a long time, to be exact probably Harry's age then and why shouldn't he trust him after all?

Ginny's arms were bruised, deep cuts showed the violence of the men and women fighting. Blood pour out of them, dripping onto the floor, alredy sprinkled with blood stains. She dissapeared in a corner to bandage the wounds, since loosing too much blood would causer death aswell. She ripped of parts of her pants, and tied the maround her arm, knotting them with her teeth. Desperate for help, she glanced around the large marmor hall. She saw Neville, hitting one of the large deatheaters in the already bloody face. Ginny would never know how or where he got the strength. Perhaps to get his parents vengeance, maybe to prove to his grandmother she could be as proud of him like she was of her son, or just to save his friends. Her whole body ached as she moved out from under the stairs. Neville was nowhere to be seen, but as she looked to the ground, he was struggling with a giant blond follower of Voldemort. Ginny quickly pulled her wand from her cloak and yelled the first curse that came to her mind. Avada Kedavra. The deatheater fell on the side, his eyes wide in surprise, pale but still flushed. His teeth standed out like those from vampires. The red-headed girl pulled her hand in front of her mouth in awe. She didn't mean to kill... just to save her friend.

Just to save her friend. Ginny repeatet those words inside her head. Why hadn't anyone told her that she had to kill to save? Why do bad to obtain good? As she stepped in front of the mirror, she looked at her face. Just like the snow outside, it was white, white like the floor of Hogwarts. The red crying patches freckled over the pale cover just made her think of blood. Blood in Hogwarts, blood from the battle. Her hair was litterally a mess. Her usuall flippy scarlet curls hung at an odd angle, frizzy hair lept from her head, the shininess was no longer present, it had died away like her friends. Her hazel eyes just stared blankly into her reflection. The reflection of a killer, of a murderer in her opinion.

Neville just stared at her. Ginny couldn't quiet make out the expression on his face, but it was definitely bad. She bit her lower lip and turned away from his sour face. Tears crawled into her eyes. She quickly swallowed them back, determined not to look vulnerable. But as soon as she egained her confidence, she heard a loud cry, then a numb noise, like before the beginning of a volcano erruption. Ginny whirled around to look at Hermione. Not the vivid, slightly annoyed Hermione she knew and laughed with, but a... limp, immobil body, a white expression on her face. Immediatley, Ginny knew what it meant.

As the cold water from the showerhead hurried towards Ginny's body, she closed her lids and saw once again Hermione in front of her eyes. The way she lay there, her head tilted up a bit, the eyes staring at Ginny's position, fear and angst caught betwenn their gazes. But Hermione didn't live anymore. She had died in her honor, defending the castle, her friends and most of all she had cared. She had been the most wonderful friend, that Ginny ever had. Understanding, listening to her problems, knowing solutions to almost everything, she had been Ginny's best friend. A strong friendship. Long and lasting, betwenn two opposites. Ginny one of seven children, smart but lazy most of the time, excited by Quidditch and then Hermione, an only child, intelligent, eager to learn, despising Quidditch in a way. The sight of her dead body dissapeared, replaced by the bright yellow wall from the shower. Ginny dipped her hair under the cold liquid, shivering now completely.

Ron was dead, Hermione was dead. Horrible words, Ginny never hoped to say as soon at the age of 18. Suddenly, her body was prosponed forwards. She stretched out her arms in front of her, breaking something as she fell onto the wrist. As soon as the pain came, it went away. Aching bodyparts, were her least worry at the moment. He scarlet curls wipped around with her, as she blinked into the eye of three deatheater, snapping their fingers and waving around dangerously with her wands. They surrounded her, and although it was an old trick, she ducked as the curses went flying over her, hitting each one in the chest. Like dominos, they clattered to the ground one after another, loud noises of their wooden wands breaking. Quickly, Ginny tiptoed around them, holding her broken bone to her side. She could still use her wand, but only barely, caused by the recent injury.

Ginny stepped out of the shower, holding her arm, like she held it months ago. She ran her fingers alon the forearm, where she had numerous fractures. It took them two weeks to heal it completely. She shuddered as she thougt about the four weeks she had spend in St. Mungos. When the healer came, she only wanted the others to get examined. In fact, she had been afraid. She wanted to remain the way she was, she wanted to feel the pain she caused. But in her state she didn't have any defense for herself, she felt weak and psychologically defeated. Only seconds later, she broke down onto a nearby bed. Her mother told her later, that she had been in the coma for a week. Then her crying had begon. If only Harry had been there, she would have felt secure, but she just felt lonely. Even when nearly every member of her family was there, she felt left out, disconnected of the rest. Of everything that happened around her. Left alone.

Ginny couldn't breathe. Ice cold hands rimmed their bony fingers around her neck, squeezing so hard, her breath was caught in her throat. She gasped and struggled to get the firm grip on her off her. Tears were already flowing down her dirty cheeks, landing on the ground. She kicked, she bit, she even tried to hex the person behind her, but she couldn't say a word and her body felt more numb as before. When her lack of oxygen was too big, she fainted and didn't feel her body touch the ground. The deatheater must have presumed her dead.

But she wasn't dead. Sometimes she wished she would have been. Ginny's light brown eyes stared back at her from the big mirror over her sink. Did she really want to die? Did she want to cause even more pain for her siblings, everybody she knew? Her mind screamed the answer she tried to burry deep down in herself. The answer she desperately needed to push away, away from her, away from the whole world. Wouldn't it just be better if she didn't exist anymore? Why couldn't she just erased of the world, the memories she caused and herself still recollected in thoughts? Life. Life was the answer to the questions, she didn't want to have to ask herself. Simply life. The flow of things. It had to happen, it was her faith. But wasn't faith supposed to turn out good? Wasn't faith what had brought Harry and her together and brought them apart again? Ginny didn't want to believe it. Sometimes she just wanted to wake up, as if it only was a nightmare. She wanted to wake up in Harry's arms, look into Harry's emerald eyes, kiss him and... and... just live. But wasn't living what she was still doing? It made no sense. On one side she should be happy that she could still breathe, but on the other one, it only made her suffer.

Cautiously, Ginny lifted her heavy lids and held her throat. It was sore from the inside, and injured by the outside. She spat out air and gasped it in only moments later. She coughed noisily and stood up. It took her some time to regain her strength. Still coughing and holding herself up with one hand, she let her gaze go through the room. It was like a massgraveyard. Deatheaters and a few students lay on their backs, eyes open, staring with empty eyes at the high ceiling. Could it be possible, that they would be awakened by a kiss, from their soulmates? Ginny shook her head in deliberation, but silly thoughs just continued to cross her mind. Some of them seemed even in the slightest bit possible. If only they would work... just to bring them to life again the time to tell their parents goodbye... Ginny knew she had been given that chance. Her mother's sad wave was ingraved in her mind. Just before they had left London, and joined the Hogwarts express to join Professor McGonagall, they had said their 'adieus', Ron laughing at her accusation she would never see them again. Ron...

Ron. She had always thought of him like an overprotective prat, shooed him away, never trusted any of her secrets with him. How had she hated his nosyness! But then again it was only for her best. He only wanted her to be happy and see those hazel eyes laugh in amusement. See her smile at the theme of love. Have children with her beloved husband. Children... she had wanted them for years and years now! Only to grow up with so many brothers gave her the feeling of undying emotions. Good emotions. Now it was her worst fear. What would it be like to loose them, like her mother had lost Ron and Percy? How could she ever handle loss again? And anyway... the only man she ever wanted to have kids from was the man that died fighting Voldemort. The one vanquishing Voldemort. No other would reach her heart as high as he did and conquier it.

Ginny pulled her fur coat over her T-shirt and Jeans and slipped into her boots. Warmth surrended her, forgetting the cold outside for a moment. She was standing in front of her door, staring at the doorknob like it was a strange object, out of space.

Silence. Entire, cold, glacial silence. It was the only word to describe the state of the hall. Darkness poured inside the room, accompagnied by a sleek shine of moon. But it was enough to survey the whole room. Everything seemed dead. Everyone seemed dead. But as soon as she looked the other way, she saw Neville and Luna run towards her, their wands outstretched. Light was thrown in her face and she blinked quickly. Suddenly their paths slowed down and Luna fell in front of Ginny's feet. She was exhausted, depressed and gaped at Ginny in horror. She caught Neville's also trist look and looked confused at him. He pointed to the stairs where she had watched Harry fight the dark wizard before and saw it.

The image still haunted her. Two dead bodies. One of them looked an ugly baby, small, powerless and the short arms clutched to his face. Robes lay on top of him, so that only his face and arms were to see. His face.. his horrible face...red eyes, small thin, lips, bruised cheeks, open skin, and a hairless skull... The face of a demon, a true demon, a devil send from hell to this earth to only cause bad. Ginny screwed her face up in disgust. Bad was the opposite of good, wasn't it? Why does it exist? Why couldn't a world of harmony have only been invented? Why wasn't the entire universe contoured by a good aura, a protective spell with no bad to pass? There was no answer to that. You simply couldn't tell what it was. Some theory's had been created of course. Betwenn the one that told that the earth had to be balanced, and one other that phropecied the end of the world if good and evil not united, Ginny knew not the thruth.

Face up, body covered in blood, his usual sparkles in his gleaming green eyes extinguished. A deep cut over his eyebrow continued all the way to hismouth. Two blue lips, bruised and injured hung there, a slight bit open as if to pronounce a spell. His nose seemed oddly placed, maybe broken. The messy black hair lay still beside him, singed at the ends. His body, thin and fragile, didn't touch the floor, it hung over the steps, where he was lying in his infinite sleep. If she hadn't knew he was dead, she would still have called him beautiful. A bright spot in the surrending darkness of the night. His wand had rolled over about a yard away from him, dumped in defeat of himself. Ginny wanted, but couldn't take her eyes from him. Harry? Dead? The love of her life, just blankly erased from her existence?The boy who saved her life from Tom Riddle at the age of twelve years only? Ginny shut her eyes, remembering the moment her eyes snapped open and she looked in those deep forest eyes of his. Concern was hidden in a corner, exhaustion in another. But mostly it had been something she couldbn't describe at that time. Now she realized it had been... love. Right at that moment, the cold around just vanished and her insides burned with desire. With love, as she fearingly discovered. Right now, his frace looked about the same as it had done in the gigantic cave, where Riddle had brought her, trying to succeed his plan. He nearly accomplished it aswell, hadn't there been Harry... she would not be alive anymore.

Turning the knob, Ginny let in all the chilly air from outside blow in her face. Refreshing as it was, there was still the cruel reality of it's nature. She stepped outside, looking around the surroundings. On her left resided a forest deeper and larger than the forbidden forest at Hogwarts. She never dared to force herself inside the shadows of the trees, nor to explore even the edge. Too much memories, far too painful memories. The snow crisped under her feet, as she walked outside the old and grouching crimson painted gate. The colour wore off more and more each day, leaving behind traces of an old silver base. Ginny turned her head right and took the path that went away fromm the woods. She knew the way by heart, having visited so many times. Not many cars stopped here. Barely those who lived there. And only a few houses were seated in the deserted area, where she found her small and modest house. The driveways and the roads had been cleared from the snow, traces of brown mud left as proof. Ginny never brought flowers, only took care of those already there. She couldn't watch them fade away like her friends did, like their souls had been robbed by cruel followers of the deadly Voldemort. She watched the ground and followed the road, until it came to and end, infront of a large sign, that informed her to dangerous construction ground. It was only a disguise to keep muggles away frolm the saint place of the graves of the most important persons in the wizarding world. Harry, Hermione and Ron amongst them.

It was a warm evening, the sun hung low, sending flashes of red light in her way. It had been already a week since the golden trio's death. Today was their funeral. White. White like Dumbledores, Merlins and several other important figures in history. Ginny was dressed in a long silken white dress, that reached the green grass under her and trailed behind her. She had wrapped around her an ivory veil and dropped one over her head to hide her tears, even if everybody carried them. A lot of people had come to bring their last gratitude and wishes to the siblings and close friends of the victims. Ginny took a seat on one of the cussioned seats in the front row and watched th visitors go by. The ceremony had already ended. Lilies had been thrown, lauriers and several other flowers. Ginny just stared at the holes in the ground. Inside one of them a white sarcophage was burried, carrying her brother, in another her best friend and in the last one her lover. People she cared so dearly about. Her hands were shaking and she felt the tears flowing onto her lap. Nobody even dared to come within a few feet of her, afraid of her reaction. she was very well known to the others, with her fragility and temper. One curly streak fell out of her bun and swinged in front of Ginny's eyes. Oh how Harry used to take those scarlet waves betwenn his fingers and curl them together! Ginny sighed and took a depp breath. In the last seven days, meories she thought, she had forgotten flooded back into her already stuffed mind. Dreadful.

Ginny hugged her coat a she entered the frozen graveyard. Sunlight fell onto each one of them. It was not very big at the first sight, but if you would want to go all the way through, it would have taken you at least two days. Her feet carried her all the way to the three marmor stones that looked like the newest ones. She fell onto her knees, not caring anymore of the cold that crept up her legs and soaked her jeans. She trailed the name of each person with her finger, stopping every now and again. The stone was freezing in the large surface. The birth and deathyears were ingraved in black itallic paint. Ginny picked up a lily from Hermione's grave. It looked crystallized, hanging between the world of heaven and earth, like herself. The purple color inside almost looked lilac, due to the lack of warmth. She pulled out her wand and lighted the candles, still sitting on her forelegs. Her heels dug deep in her bottom, but right now she could not care any less. It almost made her feel alive. Something she desperately had to seek for in the deadly and saint aura of this place. Lightly, she placed the pearlen flower back on the grave and spoke out in a whisper.

"Hermione, my friend, my dear friend. In some way, I know you do, you can hear me. If from heaven or just in your heart." She paused a moment and dug her fingernails in the fur of her jacket. "I... Just remember that I will always think about you, but I will not cry anymore... I will stay strong, just for you... for no other person and deep inside my soul I will find happiness, I promise..." She tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. The day seemed brighter than before. Sliding a bit to the side, Ginny face the grave of her brother. Unlike Hermione's one, cinnamon roses were placed on the earth. Ginny took a petal of one and turned it over in her palm. In a deep and friendly voice she began to rcite a poem she once heard Ron say. It just came to her mind the sinful day...

"Ron, my brother, my deep-down protector, I love you... in a way I can only love you, my dear sibling... Do ont fear for me, wherever you are, I am safe, nothing can happen to me right now! I just hope you will find your peace deep within yourself, even if it takes you some time. Overwind your fear of loosing control, I can sense your troubled, even with you not longer by my side... move on... you will find true love only in heaven..." Ginny was shocked of her own words. Those words were like a prophecy, something she had always knew, but would not admit to likely have said ever... but it was true, she could feel him and knew he hadn't moved on. His invisible ghost was placed between the darkness of the earth and the light of the sky. With much less confidence she stood up and walked over to Harry's grave. It had been planted right next to his parents. As for Hermione's or Ron's graves, Harry had not many flowers, but pictures of him, his oparents, his friends, Ginny... it was like a collage of whom he ever loved most. But there was one flower that took her breath away and pulled all the attention to her. It was a vanilla flower. Ginny's favourite and also Harry's. They both had smelled like it, whenever they shared their kisses they would caught a glimpse of the sent in each other. The flower had shrunk to protect itself, but as Ginny's hand touched it, the cnsop opened in slowmotion and released and opened up, a ring clatterin against the ground. Ginny had always been aware of that ring on Harry's finger. An emerald surrounded by golden lions and lines traces through the whole magnificent work. It had been the first time in half a year, that Ginny truly smiled. A warm smile. She had the vague impression it was Harry's last wish for her to possess that item. She took off her necklace and let the perfectly matching ring, slide across the golden pearls to reach the lowest point, before she bound it to her neck again.

"Harry, my love, my truly and only love... I am proud of you, you saved once again the wizarding community, but it took your life after all..." Ginny didn't know how to put it in another way "Once I heard the quote 'People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. ' My life has been like that since you left me and the rest of the world... but I guess as well as you have to keep on going, I have to acclompish the same task, without ver loosing my love for you... when I will die one day we can be together... and until that day I will wait, then I know my heart belongs only to you and you only..." Ginny scrambled to her feet and truned to walk away. But before she could go on any further, she whirled around and smiled at th three graves.

"We'll never forget you..."

A/N: Well that was my first ONESHOT. I hope you like it, although it is kinda sad.. Review if you have the time and please mean it, don't gibe me all that 'Yeah it was great'-rubbish, when you hated it! I wil accept any commentar, since I still want to improve! Well thank you fro reading!