Sometimes people ask me what if? What if Voldemort hadn't killed my parents? What if the curse that backfired had actually killed him? So many what ifs.
If Voldemort hadn't killed my parents, I wouldn't have gone to my aunt and uncle's. If I hadn't gone to my aunt and uncle's, I wouldn't have needed help onto the platform. If I hadn't needed help, I might not have met Ron.
If I hadn't met Ron, I wouldn't have met my best friend. If I didn't have him, I wouldn't have had anyone to help me save Hermione from the troll. If I didn't save Hermione, we wouldn't be friends.
If I hadn't been friends with Ron and Hermione, I wouldn't have gone to the Burrow. If I hadn't gone to the Burrow, I wouldn't have met Ginny. If I hadn't met Ginny, I wouldn't be whole.
"Knut for your thoughts, Harry," said Ginny, slipping her arms around his neck as she stood behind him.
"Just about what might have been."
Ginny smiled, the engagement ring sparkling on her finger. "Oh," she whispered, not pressing the issue.
He turned to face her, his eyes captivated by the beauty that he could never ignore. His hands found their way to the center of her back, gently tracing circles with his fingertips. She leaned into his chest, pressing her cheek into his shirt.
"But that doesn't really mater, does it?" Said Harry.
"All that matters is you and me, right now," she responded.
"Yeah," he said gently. With that, he turned to place a rose on his parent's graves on October 31, exactly sixteen years previous their deaths.