Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter, but I wish I did. J.K Rowling beat me to it. Also, some credit goes to The Band Perry for inspiring me to write this. Please, give it a listen.
"If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song"
-If I Die Young, by The Band Perry
The war had taken the old and the young. Children far to innocent to have seen the brutalities caused by Voldemort, with to many years stolen. Ginny Weasley was one such girl. With her death, a piece was ripped from every one of the Weasleys and Harry. Ginny had always been a representation of Harry's past, his entrance into the Wizarding World. Ginny was always there, waiting for him. She was one of the reasons he was fighting. He wanted to create a safer world for the people like Ginny and her family, who were so kind and welcoming to him. Now that she was gone... what was the point? How was anything worth it? So what if he was thanked profusely by anyone who saw his scar- so what if he'd saved hundreds of muggles and muggle borns? He hadn't been able to save one of the few people who really mattered to him. In Harry's mind, he'd lost. Ginny's death was the final blow to his fragile existence.
Ginny was light. She was the past. She was the future. She was the physical manifestation of all that was good and all that kept Harry sane. He'd probably loved her. And if what he'd felt for her was too juvenile to be called love, he would call it reliance. He needed her, just like he needed every person he loved. And now she was gone.
Harry remembered that day, and relived it whenever he closed his eyes. It haunted him incessantly, and never a waking moment did he stop remembering. The aftermath of the terrible battle at Hogwarts.
The Weasleys, huddled to one side, crying, yelling. Disbelief was concrete on their faces. Harry was terrified that someone had died. Someone must have died, for their expressions to be so sorrowful. He hastened his step to them. Was it Fred? George? Merlin forbid, Ron? Please, please, don't let it be Ron. To Harry's horror, the thought of Ginny dying had never even crossed his mind, not even once. The idea was just so absurd to him. She'd always been there, always would be there in the end. She hug him, or give him an encouraging smile, and give him strength. But in an instant, Harry was reminded that no one was immortal.
A stony, blank stare. Red hair, once blazing with fire, now a dull copper. And those eyes… the grey depths were lifeless and cold. She was sprawled out haphazardly, palms up, her wand in one hand. The smooth, pale skin could belong to no one else. Ginny. It was Ginny.
Ginny can't be dead. It can't be Ginny. No, no, no…
Harry's mind was as scrambled as if someone had cast an obliviate on him. He looked at Ginny's body with single-minded panic. Everything else disappeared. He couldn't even think about the Weasleys, who had now noticed his presence. He stumbled towards her, and collapsed on the floor beside her.
He silently begged for the light to return in her eyes. That was what he'd most loved about her. The determination in her eyes. But even in his denial, he knew that she was gone forever.
Harry felt horror wash over him. This was worse than when he'd lost Sirius. Worse than anything he'd ever faced. He put his arms on either side of her head, and gently turned her head so that it was facing upwards. It made he lifelessness more obvious, but he didn't care. He just wanted to know if she was real. If the whole thing was real.
His fingers ran over her skin. He could vaguely hear someone talking to him, but he wasn't listening. Nothing could hold his attention beyond Ginny. Nothing else mattered. He wanted her to move, to talk, to laugh, anything.
A hand gripped his shoulder. Harry couldn't even muster the energy to see who it was. He assumed it was probably a Weasley, offering comfort or willing him to leave so that they could grieve in peace. He hoped it was the former.
He mouthed her name over and over. He didn't know how long.
Why were you taken from me? Why? You had so much time! You deserved so much happiness, so much more time! Why!
Harry could only imagine how Mrs. And Mr. Weasley must be feeling. Ginny had been their pride and joy, he knew that. All of them would be crushed. Nothing could compare to the loss of a loved one.
Luna, seeing who it was, ran up to them. "Oh no… Ginny!" She paled considerably. "We should close her eyes," said Luna, close to tears. The situation was reminiscent of Dobby's murder. But Harry shook his head. He couldn't stand the finality of that. Ginny's eyes were dead, but they should remain open. That was, he could pretend that it was all just a nightmare. But he also, in a sick way, wanted her form to be imprinted in his mind forever. Beautiful, dead. His Ginny, dead. Eyes wide open and unseeing.
He stayed with her for what could have been minutes, hours, or even a day. Time was of no consequence. In fact, he raged against time, which continued to flow despite how he wished he could rewind it and do everything over again. The Weasleys were in a similar state. Numb to the world, numb to everything but their disbelief. The pain would come later.
And come it did. He was eventually torn away from Ginny, forced to eat, and left to deal with the rubble. He could hardly feel a thing when he came across the body of Remus and Tonks. It was all too much.
He descended to the Great Hall from the Dormitory later, where people were still in mourning, but were looking more and more hopeful. He supposed it was dawning on them that it was over. That Voldemort was defeated. And he was the Savior they had to thank for it.
Hermione was the first to see him, and she ran to give him a hug. Harry practically collapsed into her arms.
"You did it, Harry! You really did it, you killed him!"
Her voice called the attention of the other in the hall, who swarmed him like a bunch of thankful locusts. Molly Weasley was first, though. She looked at him with fondness and another unfathomable expression. Wordlessly, she too pulled him into a hug.
Harry cried, then, for the first time since the battle had been one. He cried for Remus, for Tonks, for Teddy Lupin loosing both his parents, for Ginny, for every lost loved one.
"You were so brave, Harry. I'm so proud of you." Molly whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the crowd.
"I don't deserve it, Mrs. Weasley. Not at all!" Harry choked out miserably.
THISISASPACERSPACERSPACER.
At dawn, Harry snuck out of the Dormitory and down to the grounds. A few minutes later, her heard footsteps behind him. His heart gave a jolt when he saw red hair, but realized who it was.
"Hey, mate." Ron said uncomfortably.
"Hey." Harry said.
They didn't say anything for a while, leaving each other to their thoughts. Just being away from the castle was a great relief to Harry.
"It's just hard to believe… that she's gone, you know." Ron said softly. He stared straight ahead, like he was afraid to break the scenery.
"I know." Harry replied simply.
"It hit Mom so hard… Ginny was the only girl, so it's even harder. And she was the youngest."
"I know."
Nothing Harry could say seemed like it could possibly be enough. Nothing could be adequate enough to comfort his best friend.
"She… Ginny died saving George, Harry. You might not know that, but Fred told me that she stepped in and blocked a spell that was meant for him, and she was dueling with a Death Eater… but she couldn't protect herself from an Avada Kedavra from another one. Fred blames himself… because he says he was right there and should have seen it coming."
Harry had had no idea. But somehow, it seemed right that Ginny had gone down fighting until the end, saving her brother. It was so true to her character, that he could only feel immensely proud of her bravery.
"I would do anything to bring her back again." Harry began. "Anything. What happened…" His face fell, and he couldn't continue. There was nothing to say. She was gone, and that was that.
"I know you would. Thanks, but Ginny would've wanted you to keep living, and get on with your life. I know it. She worshiped you, Harry. She wouldn't want you to torture yourself over this." He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.
"Yeah…" This made Harry feel slightly better, but only a little. Not nearly enough to fill the ache in his chest, but it was a start.
As Harry and Ron looked over the Black Lake, memories reflected over the shining water. Of the dead, of the living, of the people they'd met along the way. But mostly of Ginny. For Harry, the few times he'd seen the fire in her expression, her spirit. Their first kiss. His arms around her. For Ron, his sister's stubbornness, refusing to be left behind or treated any differently than her older brothers. Her wit and strength. Both would remember her as one of the bravest witches they'd ever known.
Sure, Harry would probably love again. Time kept moving. But he knew he would never love another with the wholehearted pureness that he did for Ginny. She would never be forgotten, always a part of the memories and hearts of those who were left behind. For the Weasley, Harry, Luna, Neville, and everybody whose lives she'd somehow touched, she would never really be gone.