Disclaimer: I don't own, nor will I ever own Harry Potter.

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You said you'd be back.

You left with a small twinkle in your emerald green eyes as you adjusted your weapons and Order robes, those of the Battle Phoenix, taken after Albus died so suddenly against him.

You told me you loved me and held me tight, kissing me so sweetly I couldn't help but wish it had lasted forever.

But nothing ever does, and it didn't either.

I was so stunned that you were going to fight him, I never told you that I was pregnant with your child…our child…from our one night of love so long ago; the night you proposed under the stars on that clear night in December, the mountains covered in snow around us, two small candles lighting up the table which we had held a special picnic, and a small red velvet box, containing your mother's engagement ring, which you gave to me so carelessly, yet so full of love and joy.

That night seems to long ago.

That Battle seems eternity ago.

You fought him, you fought him with the love of your mother…your best friend died to save you, the love he had for you. The last Marauder died for you, for the love he had for you. My best friend died to save you, to the love she had for you.

Love was the weapon to defeat him, but there was a terrible price, and you paid it.

In essence divided was his soul from that night, part of which had gone into you, saving you and giving you his powers.

You, in reality, did die that night.

So whenever this loan was ripped back after you killed him, in his struggling efforts to save himself which failed terribly, you yourself died, a small smile on your face as you passed on.

I wish I had been there to see such peacefulness, one which I have hoped for you for so long.

You lost so many then, and are with them now.

I can feel your presence over me and little Lily, watching us and helping us through the day, even though it is so hard. It comforts me.

And as I stand over your grave on the first Anniversary of the Final Battle, I break down at last, my barriers crumbling as I hug your gravestone in hopes of being closer to you.

Harry James Potter,

Son of Lily and James, Godson of Sirius and Remus, Husband of Hermoine, Father of Lily, Loving Friend of all,

The Boy-Who-Lived,

The Saviour of the World,

Who saved us all.

Your candle burned out long before your Legend ever did.

31st July 1980 - 31st August 1997.

Aged 17.

You never came back.