Harry spent the next hour searching the castle for Ginny, taking out as many of the enemy as he could at the same time. He never found her, and kept telling himself that was a good thing – he had already passed too many familiar faces who were injured, or worse.
Hermione and Ron were easier to find, standing outside Myrtle's bathroom with the destroyed cup and tiara. They were filthy and bloody and holding hands. It did not escape Harry's attention, and he grinned.
"About damn time," he said.
Ron shrugged with forced nonchalance; he actually looked quite pleased with himself. "No time like the present when there's a war on, right, mate?" He put his arm firmly around Hermione and then turned to Harry, the smile falling off his face.
"Hermione, umm, she told me. That you fancy my sister." Harry could tell that Ron was trying hard not to roll his eyes. "I'm not sure what you're thinking, you know she's totally mental. I love her, of course, but . . . mental."
"She's not, Ron," began Harry. "She's one of my best friends. But she's just . . ."
"I know, I know. I get it. You don't have to spell out your feelings. Actually, please don't spell out your feelings." Ron raised his hands in mock horror. "But I think we can all agree that she's not been acting quite herself lately, right?"
Harry shrugged and nodded and Hermione touched his arm.
"I mean, we have proof right here, don't we?" Ron continued. "That she doesn't fancy you back. You are practically the only bloke on the planet I'd allow to date my sister, you've been friends with her for ages, she falls all over herself trying to help you out this year and yet, she doesn't feel anything else for you?" Ron shook his head. "Like I said, mental."
Hermione gave Ron a kiss on his cheek. "Very perceptive," she said. "You've been paying attention."
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Thanks, Ron," he said quietly. "I just hope I get the chance at some point to take advantage of the fact that you're okay with Ginny and I being together. Because right now, I'm not sure it's ever going to happen."
Ron opened his mouth as if to answer, but another huge explosion rocked the castle and the three of them had to run to escape the falling stones.
"No . . . no time to discuss . . . Harry and Ginny right now," panted Hermione. "Harry, we need to find the snake. Look into his mind. Tell us where the snake is and we can hopefully end this!"
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. It was remarkably easy to see Voldemort in his head.
"He's in the Shrieking Shack," he said quickly. "He's not even bothering to fight. Nagini's there too, in some sort of magical cage."
Ron nodded. "Well, let's get going then."
Taking one last look through the castle in the hopes he'd get a glimpse of Ginny, Harry followed his friends into the night.
HPHPHPHPHP
Later, Harry stumbled alone through the castle under his Cloak; his traitorous feet moving him forward and his mind swirling with pain.
Remus and Tonks – dead. Lavender Brown and Colin Creevey – dead. So many others – dead. And Snape – dead and yet a surprise hero. He couldn't get his mind around what he'd seen in the Pensieve, even though the images defined what Harry now knew were to be the last minutes of his life.
He was relieved, he thought, that Ron and Hermione were not with him. Alone was the only way he could do this, and even so, Harry wasn't sure he would be able to follow through. But he had to follow through, and so he kept walking across the silent grounds.
As many emotions that could have described him right now, all Harry could think about was the unfairness of the thing. Maybe it was because unfairness was close to anger, and anger was something he could stand to feel. It wasn't strong, the anger and unfairness, he didn't have room to feel strong enough anything that might have halted his steps. But still, as he looked back on his nearly 18 years, at how hard he'd been fighting his entire life, it wasn't fair, not at all. It wasn't fair that his years would soon end with the same flash of green light that had defined him for so long, that his years would end so that maybe, others could live.
And then, of course, as if the universe hadn't already played all its cards against Harry, it had to throw one more. As if a spotlight was shining on her, all Harry could see as he walked across the grass was Ginny, kneeling on the ground and talking to a fallen student.
Harry's relief at seeing Ginny unharmed was replaced almost immediately with what felt like a Bludger to his gut. The sense of losing something he'd never really had made Harry unable to breathe. It shouldn't have been harder to leave Ginny than it was Ron or Hermione, but somehow, it felt so much worse. Maybe it was because he'd harbored a tiny hope that, given enough time, he would be able to change Ginny's mind. Now that he knew he wasn't going to have that time, it was like hearing her reject him all over again.
Tears pricked at his eyes and he wiped them away impatiently. He hadn't cried once over Ginny and it felt wrong to start now – grief over a girl when he should really be grieving the end of his life. But maybe that was it, that losing Ginny (or never really having her) made his impending nothingness that much more real. Harry couldn't get his head around the fact he was about to die, but mourning the fact that he'd never so much as kissed the girl he was pretty certain he loved was a loss that felt all too real. And yet, he kept walking.
Only after the lights of the castle had faded away and Harry was consumed by the quiet of the Forbidden Forest did he remember the Snitch.
Once they were there, his parents, Sirius, and Remus, Harry couldn't imagine being able to keep walking without them. He grasped onto their words of comfort as if they were his life line, even while he understood that they were actually giving him a pathway to his end. Harry walked with them, but he couldn't stop staring at his mum and dad, and the place where their hands, looking pale and insubstantial to him, clasped each other firmly. The words burst out of him before he stopped to think.
"You still have each other. After." It wasn't an accusation. He looked at Remus. "And you and Tonks."
James nodded. "It is immense comfort," he acknowledged. Harry looked at his mum and thought he could see the hint of a tear in her eye. She stepped forward and put her hand on Harry's arm; he could only just feel the pressure.
"I know," she said simply. "If I had one wish for you, it's that you could have known this kind of love first." A translucent tear slipped down her cheek and Harry had to resist the need to wipe it away.
James did instead, his hand gentle on Lily's face. "I thought, maybe . . ." he began, and then shook his head. "I love you, son. And I'm so very proud of you."
There was almost nothing more to say. "Stay with me," Harry murmured, and his mum nodded.
"Until the end."
Harry barely felt the stone fall from his fingers as he reached the clearing where he knew death awaited him.
Minutes later, when that preordained moment rushed towards him, Harry thought of Ginny, of fierce friendship and lost opportunity, and desire.
And then he was in a place that looked like King's Cross station and talking to Professor Dumbledore. For the first time that long day, Harry felt a sense of familiarity; the man was talking in riddles he could only partly follow. That the Horcrux in him was gone was certain, and that he'd have the chance to go back after all. But even as Harry was processing that relief, Dumbledore turned coy.
"I sense that it is not only to bring about the end of Voldemort that you wish to go back. There is another, more personal reason, correct?" The man peered at Harry though his spectacles.
Harry swallowed. He suspected, somehow, that Dumbledore was talking about Ginny, and he impatiently shook his head. "I have no expectations about anything," he said. "I just . . . I want to see my friends."
Dumbledore was walking backwards, fading into the mist. "Friends, yes. Friends are important. But I think you might also find it quite . . . charming . . . to keep an open mind. Remember that, Harry." The mist closed around him, leaving Harry to journey back alone.
HPHPHPHP
Soon after Ginny helped levitate the injured Susan Bones back into the school, she came upon Ron and Hermione, climbing through the rubble of the courtyard.
"Ginny, have you seen Harry?" Ron's voice had an undercurrent of panic.
Ginny shook her head. "I thought he's been with you."
"He was," said Hermione. "And then he wasn't. We thought he'd still be in the Headmaster's office but he's not there."
"Why would he be . . . ?" Ginny began. She shook her head. "Where do you think he is?" She looked at her brother. Ron looked scared. Hermione too, was pale and shaking.
"He better not have gone . . ." said Ron, almost under his breath. "I'll . . . Ginny, what's wrong?"
For Ginny had fallen to her knees, felled by a sudden feeling of indescribable pain. "I'm . . . I'm losing something," she moaned. "It's gone . . . it's completely gone." She put her face in her hands, trying to recapture it. "It's something I wanted . . . that I needed . . . Harry . . ." her words ended in a sob. She barely felt Ron fall to the ground next to her, or heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath.
"Don't say that," Ron said harshly. His hand was gentle on her back. "Harry's not gone. He's not. He's just . . . missing, right now. But not gone," he finished fiercely.
Ginny continued to sob. She had no words for what she was feeling, other than a strong – and growing stronger – sense that she had missed something important, or maybe forgotten it altogether and was just now trying to remember. "It's too late," she said bitterly. "I'm too late."
"Ginny, what are you talking about, what's too late?" Hermione was talking now. Ginny shook her head.
"I don't know," she said quietly. As quickly as it had come, her desperation evaporated and a sense of . . . not peace, but calm overtook her. "It's nothing," she said. She stood up quickly. "I was wrong."
"How could you . . ." started Hermione, and then Voldemort's booming voice rolled through the grounds.
Ginny watched dispassionately as Hermione and Ron fell to pieces with the news of Harry's death. They surrounded her, shocked and devastated, watching Hagrid emerge from the trees with the body in his arms. Their words of disbelief rang hollow to her.
"It's okay," she said softly. "He's not gone." She couldn't explain how she knew, but she did. "There's still work to do, he wouldn't leave when there was still work to do." She grabbed her brother's arm. "And we have to help him, right? Isn't there one more? What is it? You know, I'm sure you know."
Ron looked at her, his face contorted with pain. He had one arm around Hermione and he reached out to touch Ginny's face.
"It's going to be okay, Ginny," he whispered through his tears. "We are going to keep fighting."
"Of course we are," Ginny said calmly. All around her, people were crying, sobbing, screaming at the Death Eaters, throwing things across the courtyard. She didn't quite understand. Couldn't they see? She looked at her brother again.
"We have to get the last one, we have to help Harry destroy it. What do we do?"
But as Ron and Hermione looked at her in confusion, Ginny had her answer. Even with the words of certainty still on her lips, she tasted the sharp tang of bile rising and watched an enormous snake coil and strike. Ginny's vision doubled and blurred and she swayed violently.
"Ginny . . ." the voice sounded far away. "Ginny, it's all right, the snake's gone. Neville killed it. Ginny?"
She forced herself back. Harry needs me. She grabbed her brother's hand, and Hermione, and pulled them with her into the castle.
HPHPHPHPHP
Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting together when Harry approached them under his Invisibility Cloak.
He was beyond exhausted, but Ron, Hermione, and Ginny deserved an explanation before he could rest. Hidden under his Cloak, he led them to a fairly untouched classroom that was usually used for History of Magic. Hermione conjured large cushions and they all sat on the floor and listened silently while Harry talked about the Pensieve, what he had learned about Snape's love for his mother, and the final, terrible revelation that he had been the last Horcrux. He did not mention the Resurrection Stone or seeing parents.
"So, I had no choice. I had to let him kill me." There was no easy way to say it.
Ron swore. Hermione and Ginny both looked horrified. Ginny crinkled her nose.
"But then . . . you came back?"
Harry nodded. "I saw Dumbledore. I can't really explain how, but I did. We spoke. He told me I could come back. And . . . I knew I had things to finish here. People I didn't want to leave." Harry very carefully did not look at Ginny. "So I came back to finish Voldemort for good. Narcissa Malfoy actually saved my life. She told Voldemort I was still dead. I think she just wanted to get back to the castle and find Draco."
Ginny shuddered. "I saw him here, a couple of times. Still being the same arse."
Harry looked at her. "Did he hurt you?"
Ginny shook her head. "Just his usual stupid threats. 'The Dark Lord is gaining power, better watch out, blood traitor. You have what he wants.' Stuff like that. Wonder what he thinks now that his Dark Lord is gone."
Ron swore again. "Unbelievable."
Hermione was pensive. "So . . . you were dead, for a little while? And then you suddenly came back?"
Harry nodded. "I think so. I remember the curse, remember talking to Dumbledore, and then I was back in the Forest, on the ground.
"Right," said Hermione. "That must have been when . . ." Harry saw her look quickly at Ginny and then away and wondered what it meant. "Umm, right." She grabbed Ron's hand. "Fancy a walk?"
Ron looked startled for only a second. He jumped up, tugging Hermione with him, Harry's story forgotten for the moment. They walked quickly to the door and barely looked back. "Get a nap, please, Harry," Hermione called over her shoulder as they left.
It was very quiet when they were gone. Harry looked at Ginny, trying to find the right thing to say and hating the fact that it was so difficult to talk to her now.
"Umm, it's good, isn't it? That we found all the Horcruxes?" Harry's tongue felt thick in his mouth and exhaustion made Ginny's face swim before his eyes.
She nodded. "It is. But I'm sure there's going to more work to do."
Harry couldn't even think about what might be next to do. He thought of Ron and Hermione, holding hands, and then how his parents had clasped each other. "Maybe . . . maybe we just need time. To be," he said. His words were slurring, he thought. "To be us, you know?" He wasn't sure exactly what he meant. Ginny gave a little frown.
"I think that we need to focus on making sure all the danger is really gone," she said. "Nothing else." She spoke firmly.
Even though his haze, Harry understood. He stumbled slowly to his feet. "Right," he mumbled. "Okay. Nothing else." He couldn't look back at Ginny and faced the door instead.
"I umm, I'm going up to bed. And food. I'm going up to food." He couldn't be any more clear. "Talk later," he said quietly.
And he walked out the door. Voldemort was dead, the danger was gone. Nothing else had changed.
A/N: And that's the end of Part I! I had originally intended to set up the story with just a prologue and maybe a chapter or two, but apparently, I had a lot to say. Part II coming soon. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!