'Kay, I'm a bitch. Sorry guys, I haven't updated this story in FOREVER, but I was steadily working on it, I swear :D

You guys know how hard it is to write when school work is eating you alive.

Here's a recape, in case you forgot:

Harry begins to tell Ginny what happened…in the last…his lifetime. Right.

I'll stop blabbering now, here's your story:D


Ginny listened patiently, even hungrily, to every word Harry had to say. When he'd forget his place, Ginny would always prompt him back to where he was. She asked questions occasionally, letting Harry know that she was paying attention. Painstakingly he told her event after event, sometimes adding "Remember that, it's important", but mostly just letting go of all his memories for her eager ears. Ginny gasped in horror when he told her the details of Horcruxes, and gave him a very sympathetic, comforting look when he mentioned seeing his parents, Cedric, the old muggle man, and Bertha Jorkins come from Voldemort's wand.

"A what came out of her neck?" shrieked Ginny when Harry, a good hour later, recounted what had occurred in Bathilda Bagshot's house.

"A snake." said Harry glumly. That particular memory had made him quite nauseous while describing. Ginny let go of Harry's hand, which she had grabbed when he told her about going to see his parent's graves, and used it to cover her mouth in disgust.

"That's horrid!" she squeaked. Harry nodded darkly, and then continued, his eyes fixed on a single pale, pink lily next to Ginny's left knee. He explained to her all about finding Aberforth and hearing Ariana's story. He mentioned Sirius's mirror and she grabbed his hand tightly again.

"I miss Sirius," Ginny said quietly, moments after she took his hand.

"Yeah, me too," Harry closed his eyes. An image of his godfather's laughing face and dark hair flashed across his mind.

"Anyway," began Harry, opening his eyes, "that's how Aberforth knew where we were…"

And again, off he went. It was becoming difficult now. Bringing up these memories of the war hurt him, and with every mention of Dobby, Lupin, or Fred, Harry felt his layers peel off, and became more and more emotionally naked. He kept talking, though, trying desperately to ignore raw spots in the explanation.

And, as if hearing her from underwater, her utterances blurry and faint, Ginny laughed.

It took Harry a moment to remember what he had just said.

"She kissed him? Just like that? I knew it would happen—I knew it!" Ginny triumphantly pumped her fist in the air, grinning more than she had the entire day. "I knew Ron liked her, of course, you could just tell. And poor Hermione! Last year she couldn't stop moping around when Ron was going out with Lavender. And now Hermione just went up and snogged him? Oh, this is great!" Ginny surrendered to a case of silent giggles and Harry smiled stupidly beside her.

"So what'd you do?" hiccupped Ginny.

"What do you think I did? I told them to quit it since there was a war!"

Ginny laughed again, and it acted like balm on his wounds, giving him the strength only a phoenix song could.

"Right, so, go on, then," said Ginny.

Harry felt the suffocating dread looming from behind his next words and wondered if Ginny felt it too. Fred's death was drawing closer. He was now chatting on about Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, trying to postpone the moment where he would have to tell her the story of her brother's loss. But it came almost too quickly, like things always did when you dreaded them.

"Did…did Hermione, Ron, or Percy tell you about…about how Fred…died?" asked Harry cautiously. Ginny looked down at her hands.

"No…I…I told Hermione I wanted to know—Percy was too shaken up to tell me, all he said was that it was his fault and stuff and Ron was, well, asleep—but Hermione wouldn't say. She said that he…that Fred went laughing and that was all that mattered."

"Oh," Harry had been hoping that she already heard. "You still want to know, then?"

Ginny nodded and a faint crease formed between her eyebrows. It was Harry's turn to take her hand. He spoke softly; his tone sealed with sympathy, and told her everything.

"…Hermione was right…he did go laughing. And he went bravely. You know how Fred was—he would have wanted it that way." Harry finished.

"Yeah," Ginny's voice quivered and Harry knew she couldn't bring herself to say anything more. Harry gripped her hand more tightly and continued, now speaking of Snape's death.

"Wow…he's really dead…" said Ginny in a small voice.

Harry didn't bother to nod. He went into detail all about trekking to the headmaster's office and depositing Snape's memories into Dumbledore's Pensive. He paused.

"Ginny," said Harry, "I'm sorry…but I have no idea how to explain these memories to you…"

"I do!" Ginny took a long look at Harry before speaking again. "How about…how about you show them to me?"

Harry swallowed.

"Sure," he said. "Sure…let's go, then?" Harry stood up, and helped Ginny on her feet. His legs felt wobbly and unstable from sitting so long, so he stumbled a little, causing Ginny to giggle reluctantly. Her face was cast into a purple shadow by the diminishing sunlight, and Harry could already see Venus grinning down at him.

"Wait!" Ginny called suddenly. She placed her arm on his shoulder and bent down.

"Yeah?"

"Look," Ginny came back up holding the same lily that had been lying next to her knee previously. She grabbed her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the flower, muttering a few choice words for a spell under her breath. "There!" Ginny smiled and carefully placed the lily in Harry's hand. "Everlasting charm. You can bet all your galleons that this flower will never wilt."

Harry felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smile.

"Just a reminder…that things can still remain innocent and pure even though everything around them seems…" Ginny stopped and looked around at the grounds, obviously searching for the perfect description. "…so hopeless and terrible."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly, enclosing his fingers around the soft petals of the lily. Harry put the flower in his pocket, making a mental note to place it someplace more considerable later.

They arrived in the headmaster's office rather quickly, though Harry wasn't paying much attention. He stepped over the stone gargoyle ("People have been walking past me all day, and you would think someone would have the decency to fix me up! I want to celebrate too!") and onto the spiraling staircase, which mimicked an escalator and carried both he and Ginny up. Harry, upon entering the dazzling, beautiful, circular room, led Ginny to the Pensive. It was perched on the cluttered desk, just as he had last left it, the contents inside shimmering smartly. Harry placed one hand on the side of the stone basin, his eyes grazing over the complicated and runic inscriptions along the edge.

"Here," said Harry, and he took Ginny's wrist and hovered her hand above the Pensive. "Now, when I tell you to, put your hand inside the…stuff in there. You'll go into Snape's memories, alright? No one will be able to see you. You'll come out when…everything's over."

Ginny nodded and peered eagerly around her hand at the memories swirling inside the Pensive.

"Ginny, one last thing," Harry squeezed her wrist a little tighter, "Don't get scared at what you hear and see or anything, okay? It's all over now. Remember that."

Ginny bobbed her head again.

"Good luck, then," said Harry and he let go of her hand, letting it fall into the basin. Ginny was immediately pulled into the Pensive. Harry's eyes were fixed on the place where she disappeared for a few moments, until he tore them away to look at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall. Dumbledore was smiling gaily at Harry, blinking his brilliant blue eyes every now and then. Silence ensued.

"Snape's portrait isn't on the wall." Harry observed finally. Dumbledore's portrait frowned slightly.

"No, I suppose it isn't. Does that bother you, Harry?"

Harry kneaded his forehead. "Maybe," he muttered, barely moving his lips.

"Have you any respect for Severus Snape now that you've seen into his troubled past?" Dumbledore tilted his head slightly and stared at Harry with deep curiosity. Harry looked at the carpet, suddenly feeling slightly annoyed.

"Maybe," Harry repeated.

"Only time will tell, am I correct?"

"…Maybe," said Harry for the third time. Dumbledore looked satisfied, though, and took to grinning happily again. Harry slid down onto the floor and leaned his back against the side of the desk. What about Snape? Could Harry possibly still dislike him after all he had done for him? After all Snape had felt for Lily?

Apparently so.

Snape was always mean to Harry, and Harry knew that. Though part of his heart pitied Snape's miserable life, the other, more dominate half, couldn't just forget Snape's sneers and loathing, repulsed looks. Snape hated Harry. Harry hated Snape. Everything felt so…simple that way. The one thing Harry could rely on was that he and Snape were enemies, just like he and Voldemort. But everything was thrown out of order the second Harry realized all that Snape could possibly have ever harbored tender, human feelings.

Harry placed his head in his hands and groaned. Snape, the same that Snape he had always hated beyond reason, loved his mother. And of all the lives Harry could think of, none were as tragic as Snape's, Harry knew that. Snape had his only love taken from him by his worse enemy, and then was the reason she died. He lived a double life, and had to stare the product of his worst nightmare straight into her eyes every potion class…

Harry was brought back to his senses when he heard a soft disturbance on the carpet. Looking up, he found Ginny standing in front of him, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her cheeks tear-streaked.

"…W-what?" asked Ginny faintly before falling to the ground and crawling next to Harry, like a small toddler looking for comforting arms to assure them that everything was okay, that there was no monster in the closet, that the scary figures were only shadows, that the storm was finally, blissfully over…

Harry enveloped Ginny into his arms without thinking, and held her close. She hugged back, nestling her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, and breathed shallowly.

"You…you weren't…" she whispered, lifting her head. Harry gave a humorless laugh.

"Oh, I was." he replied. Ginny pulled away.

"Sorry," she sniffled, "caught up in the moment."

"It happens." Harry shrugged. Ginny nodded and turned away from him, perhaps trying to hide the tears that Harry knew were steadily cascading down her freckled cheeks.

"…But how are you still…alive? Dumbledore said…Dumbledore told Snape to tell you that you had to die." Ginny was still facing away from Harry when she spoke.

"Well, I wasn't done explaining everything that happened, there's more. Should I continue?" Harry put a carefully placed hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"Is it emotionally exhausting?"

"Very."

"Go for it."

Harry launched into what had occurred after finding himself lying face-down in a musty carpet knowing that his life was drawing to a close…terribly fast. He described to Ginny everything from his conversation with Neville Longbottom to his wildly-thumping heart. She held his hand the entire time, while Harry was forced to relive the most tremendous and disheartening moments of his entire life. Why was it so easy to tell Ron and Hermione?

Because you were too busy being relieved to care¸ said the wise voice in the back of his head.

Harry stopped talking.

Ginny had been clinging on to every single word Harry was uttering, she had been listening more than he could have hoped for. She took note of the sudden pause and gave him a quick hug.

"It's okay," she whispered into his ear. Harry swallowed. Surely his throat wasn't mysteriously closing? He had stopped mid sentence, right while recalling the moment when his parents, Lupin, and Sirius all appeared in front of him. Harry opened his mouth to start again, but no words came out. The memories kept swirling around inside his mind, and it was as if they were cotton inside his mouth, clogging his words.

"It's alright," Ginny said comfortingly, "its fine. It's all over now."

Harry pressed on. "Right, s—so as I was saying, I turned the Resurrection Stone in my hand three times…"

Ginny nodded and reached her hand into the space between Harry's spine and the side of the desk, and rubbed the small of his back encouragingly.

"My…my mother, my father, Sirius and Lupin…just…appeared."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just appeared. And they were all smiling, really happy. My mum…my mum, she came up to me and said—"

"You don't have to tell me what she said. You don't have to tell me what anyone of them said. Their words were meant for you…and you alone. You deserve to keep them." Ginny said strongly, looking defiant. Harry shook his head.

"No, no, you deserve to hear, it's fine, really. They would want me to."

Ginny, defeated with the sincerity in Harry's voice, nodded again and squeezed his hand. "Alright then," she said quietly.

"Right, my mum came up to me and she looked at me…and she told me…she said that I've been…brave—" Harry's voice cracked as the memory sucked him in, engulfed him in its emotion, its importance, its feeling of loss and yet, serenity. But he couldn't stop now…Harry had to continue.

"Then my dad said that they were all proud of me…" Harry's voice was hoarse and raw.

"So am I." Ginny gave Harry a small smile, which he couldn't return.

"I asked if dying would hurt. Sirius told me it didn't…" His Godfather's face emerged in his mind, and it was almost too much to bear. "I told Lupin I was sorry he died, with Teddy and all…"

Harry broke.

Tears pushed from behind his eyes onto his cheeks. Some fell onto the carpet, while others disappeared on his lips or splattered onto his cloak. It was overwhelming him, and now that he had begun, it was difficult to stop. Harry was crying—crying harder than he ever had memory of doing so. Not while visiting his parent's graves, not at Dumbledore's funeral, or even when he was four and Dudley pushed Harry down the stairs, resulting in a bloody nose. Harry cradled his heavy, tired head in his callused hands and tried to control himself. But their faces…all of their faces kept swimming in his mind's eye.

"Oh, Harry! Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry…" Ginny wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. "You must really miss them," she said softly. Harry lifted his head.

"M-more than you can imagine." His voice cracked again as he surrendered to another wave of grief and tears. Ginny released him, took her wand from her pocket and conjured up two cups of steaming tea.

"Here," Ginny handed Harry a white teacup. "Drink it; it'll make you feel better."

Harry shook his head, unable to speak.

"My mum always gives me tea when I'm upset. I thought—"

"I-it's fine, Ginny, I just don't want tea right now. I j-just want—"

"You just want to be hugged and forget about everything." It was as if Ginny read his mind. Harry, feeling rather childish, nodded as she brought him into her arms and swayed slightly from side to side. "Talk it all out," Ginny cooed. "Say everything you're feeling and you won't have to think about it anymore."

Harry accepted the challenge without thinking. "Seeing them in-infront of me…" he said "it made me…deep down…I-I almost wanted to d-die…just…just so I could be with them…I guess…" The more Harry thought about it, the more true he realized it was. So true, in fact, that it brought on another throttling shake, another strangled sob.

"Harry," Ginny said in a thick voice, "you're going to make me cry…again." She laughed feebly.

"Sorry…to dump this all on you…" Harry was more than aware that he had excessive emotional baggage. Maybe Ginny couldn't handle him…maybe Harry was too much for anybody…

"No! No, you aren't dumping anything on me, I swear. Continue, please."

Harry took a trembling breath. He wanted to regain control over himself. He didn't want to sit in front of Ginny and act like a sniveling little boy. But everything that he had been through during the past night and the last seven years of his life kept boiling to the surface.

"I have had to go through my entire life…losing…never gaining…" babbled Harry. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "Have you really lived and only lost?"

"I didn't mean it that way." Harry said quickly. "It's just, doesn't it seem as if everyone I care about…dies? My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Fred, Lupin, Tonks…and those are just the humans. What about Hedwig and Dobby?" More reluctant tears fell, but Ginny didn't seem to notice.

"So…so all of those you've lost, which is a lot, I'm not going to disagree, are you the only one who experienced their death?"

"No, but—"

"In case you didn't know, Harry, I cared about Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Fred, Lupin, and Tonks too. I really did. You aren't the only one who lost people."

"I know, I'm not—"

"And what about everyone that you do have? What about Ron and Hermione? My mum and dad? Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Pavarti, Padma? Every single person that fought against Voldemort last night was there for you. I'm here for you. You have an awful lot, Harry, a lot more than people like Voldemort ever had." Ginny looked at Harry, her eyes glistening. She was right…completely right…Harry has more than Voldemort ever did. Voldemort's lack of love is what created him, is what made him so evil and terrible.

"I know I do." said Harry. "I know that I have more than I could have ever asked for when I lived with my aunt and uncle. I know I have friends and that people really care. It's just…sometimes I also wish that I had things like parents and a godfather." Harry set his wobbling jaw and picked at the carpet with his hand that wasn't being grasped by Ginny.

"I just don't want you coming out of all of this thinking you lost everything…because you haven't. You know that." Ginny smiled lightly. "Alright. Go on."

Harry told her all that he had felt walking alongside those he thought he'd never see again. It was like an entirely different world, Harry said, it was as if he wasn't just Harry anymore…but also a friend, son, and godson all over again. He was holding back his tears now, trying to cling onto the last scrap of dignity he had left. Acting like this in front of Ginny…it was mortifying. Every time Harry's voice splintered, his face turned awfully warm and he had to look away. He began to start telling the rest of his adventures without realizing, and soon enough it was like he was standing defenseless in front of Voldemort all over again…

There was a knock on the headmaster's door.

Ginny looked at Harry, silently asking approval to let the knocker inside. Harry furiously wiped at his eyes with his sleeve and nodded.

Ginny hopped up pulled open the door. Hermione and Ron toppled in, both grinning stupidly, as if they knew a secret Harry didn't. Their hands were clasped, and Harry began to laugh at the irony of it all, remembering back to when Ron said to him, "All's fair in love and war, and this a bit of both."


'Aight, so I think one more chapter should finish this puppy up. I'm not going to give you a promised update in the next few weeks, but let's just say it should probably be out in less than two months.

I love you all for sticking through this with me:D

Hokay, so, review if you want to make me really happy. I'm definitely going to finish, so there's no "three reviews and I'll update" thing, but I would consider it a nice little holiday gift:D

Santa/Martin the Menorah/(insert name of your fictional winter holiday figure) is watching!

All critism is welcome! My English teacher entered me into a state writing contest, so I would really appreciate it if you could inform me on what I need to improve (writing-wise), in order for me to have a chance at pwning everyone else ;D

Hah, and don't forget to talk about the story in your reviews!

Thanks!