All was well.
That's how my favourite story ends. All was well. J.K Rowling got it right, no one wants to hear the sad tales that happened after the war. No one wanted to know that after the death of Fred, George wanted to kill him self and tried twice to do so. No one wanted to know that Teddy got bullied every day for having no parents or that Draco lost his parents to illness and the Auror's never got off his back.
I remember when I was one of those people who didn't want to know the truth, didn't want to know how the story really ended.
But that was a year ago and now as I sit in this bed, waiting, I need to write it out.
I was nineteen when I landed in London. Still blonde and tanned from the Australian sun. My hair back then was long and straight and I wore the shorts I boarded the plane on and a tank top with a stupid flimsy cardigan. I had not packed for London's winter. Truth be told I didn't really pack at all. Only four days before I had been sitting with my best friend eating ice cream and laughing, the next day she was dead and then I was accepting a job position in London I had first turned down. I had called accepted the job and caught the next plane, with nothing but a carry on bag full of books and the stupid cardigan.
I ran into someone as I walked through the airport looking around in amazement, c would have loved it, the accents all around me, the smell and the fashion. He looked at me as a feel backwards on the ground. His brilliant green eyes shone in amusement at my pain.
"Watch were your going, jack arse!" I yelled at him as I tried to pick my fallen hand bag and books up. (And my dignity)
He chuckled at me and held out a hand. I pushed it away as I pushed my self up.
"You okay?" He asked a smile still playing on his face. I just stared at him, he looked familiar.
He was taller then my by about two inches. He was handsome, as I previously said he had these brilliant green eyes and black hair that stood every which way. He wore black pants and a black tee. He still smiled like a maniac, it growing bigger every second I didn't reply.
"Fine." I muttered and pushed past him. But he was persistent. Apparently his type was shivering girls who have been on a plane for a whole day and a bit. He followed me as I started walking again, pulling my phone out of my pocket, checking my hotel details.
"Where you going?" he asked.
"Mars." I muttered sarcastically.
"Wow didn't know they flew there." He laughed as he jogged to keep up with my brisk walk.
"What the hell is your problem?' I turned on him.
He just smiled again, and put out his hand as he had done when I had fallen, "Names Harry Potter, what's your?"
I laughed at his name, and a hilarious thought popped into my mind and as I always did I said the hilarious (though possibly stupid) thought, "Oh I'm Ginny!" I said in a fake excited voice. I watched as his smiled faded and his eyes casted down.
I had said the wrong thing and as I normally did when I put my foot into it, I turned on my heels and walked away.
I turned back for just a moment and say him walk away his head down.
A horrid feeling twisted my stomach as I turned back and headed to the open doors.
Why could I keep my mouth shut?
My first breathe of London air was thick and froze my lungs. It smelt like gas, rain and dirt, not exactly what I had excepted.
I hailed a cab and left the airport not realizing that as I had dropped my books and picked them up, I had left one behind.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.