To the Love of My Life

A/N: Hey happy readers! I'm not sure how well this will work out on here, because it was originally a project for school with pictures and everything, but we shall see hey? I have had this for a while and thought I would try it on here to see how it did. I would love to hear what you think, good or bad. Much love and happy reading!

Five years have passed since you have returned to me. I was going through some junk in my old room at the Borrow the other day when I came across a box filled with letters that I wrote to you while you were searching for the Horcruxs. I had completely forgotten that they even existed (I don't like to think about that year if I can help it), and a cold sickening feeling overwhelmed me.

Harry, we were so scared; do you remember how scary it was back then? It frightens me to think that a whole year of my life cold be forgotten like that, but today it all came back to me. The pain, the fear, the paranoia but most of all, how my soul shattered when I though you had died.

In the months following the battle, I found the pain too much to deal with all at once, so I stored it away in a special, secret place in my heart and take it out bit by bit, and only when I was strong enough to feel it. So many people died. Families were torn apart, my family was wounded again and again, and it was the hardest thing in the world to keep going. We felt so many emotions in those first months after Voldemort's defeat, but the one thing that stood out, more than all the pain and emptiness, was love.

Somehow, we knew that in the end everything would be okay. It seems so weird to me now that we just knew it would work out. There was not a shadow of a doubt in our minds that good would prevail over evil, and in a way I almost miss that feeling. That feeling that no matter what happened, no matter how we got there, the darkness would eventually lift and we could begin to rebuild our lives.

I think I needed to be reminded of that, because I've been feeling sorry for myself today. I miss you and I really hate that we have to be apart right now. I had a crappy practice today and got yelled at more times that I care to admit, and I have been very sulky ever since. Mum has been really fussy over me over these past few days I've been staying here while you have been out on assignment (boo). She really misses having children in the house, and even though we are always filtering through here, it can't be the same. It isn't the same.

I miss Fred. I miss him so much that even as I write this I cant catch my breath. It comes in waves, and the slightest thing sets me off. It is so much harder being in this house and not seeing him jump out at me as I leave the toilet. Every time I pass his and George's old room and I get a whiff of gunpowder it cripples me. He is forever stuck in my mind at nineteen, frozen in time.

That's why I think it's such a good thing I came across my box of letters. Ever since I read them again, I feel oddly light. It's almost as if all the strength and hope that possessed sixteen year old Ginny found its way back to me. I showed Mum the letters (well, some of them... some of them were a touch too racy to share with her... no matter how grown-up our relationship has become), and I know that they helped her too because she has been prancing about the house all day humming those detestable Warbeck songs that always made me crazy.

So, as I was going through all my letters, I was struck with inspiration, my love. I know Charlie has made quite the name for himself as a writer for The Daily Prophet, but we had two Beaters in our family, so why not two writers? I plan to write a book about The Order of the Phoenix. I think it would do the world some good to hear the real story written by someone why actually cares about the people who died just as much as those who didn't. I am very excited about the project Harry, so be excited with me okay? The only thing is, between a full training schedule and ... erm... wifely duties (whenever you 'deem me worthy of your presence'), that it could take me a while to get it all done.

Until then, however, I have decided to start a scrapbook. I want to include things that make me happy whenever I read them. I want something that will comfort me when I need it, and I want it to be something we can add to over the years. I've started it already, and so far it includes my interviews with Charlie, the letter I wrote to you on Christmas eve of 1996, and a couple of funny little Witch Weekly articles (you remember the the first one that claimed that I was with child?).

So, dearest darling, love of my life, father of my unborn children and keeper of my heart, I am sending you this letter, and the first installation of my little scrapbook.

Lets fill it with more happy memories, love.

Until tomorrow

All the love in the world

Ginny

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p.s. Just in case I wasn't clear in my tone, I really do enjoy enjoy my wifely duties. A lot. So come home safely from this latest mission so I can show you just how much I enjoy them. xxxx