Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, no one really, except the ones you don't see in JK Rowling Books. I don't know if I added new people here, Ron's girlfriend is one.

A/N: I'm miserable. I can't upload the new chapter for 'While Eating Crunch' since our computer went completely bonkers and hangs every time I click the upload chapter button. It was infuriating! Er…anyways, since I CANT upload chapters, I decided to write a new fic. Good thing our computer was kind enough to leave the upload fic alone, so that at least I could write new ones. Hopefully, it won't lose it's brain off, and hang that as well, because I'll just have my mom replace it! breathing heavily Well, come on…you know how it is when you can't upload fics….other authors out there…our computer doesn't deserve pity…(I better stop now, it just might shut off…)

This is written in POV style (it's easier to write that way, you won't have to think of synonyms for say and ask…pretty boring to read "he said, she said" all the time…) and Harry is dead. Just see what happens…Please r/r While Eating Crunch, even without the second chapter…and read this too, and review. Questions, suggestions, email me at silver_prowess@yahoo.com

Not Yet Forgotten

By prowess

It's already half past five and you're still not here. I've been waiting for hours even before you usually arrive, and now it's nearly getting dark. Where are you? I don't know what to feel really, worry? Anger? Panic? It's not normal that you come late for anything. I'm getting fidgety and everything, I just want you to come here…

Ever since I died, you had always found peace and happiness near me, and me to you. Every day you would pass by the cemetery guard, who already knew you by heart because of your constant visits, and you would walk straight from the guardhouse, past the flower shops. Sometimes you would stop at those shops, buy a small basket of flowers and walk on. You pass by the bridge, stop slightly and gaze at the lake, and then think. I know what you're thinking of. You are thinking of what our future could be if I hadn't died. I liked your idea of us marrying, I've thought of that too, and I smile but when you start thinking of that night, my happiness would seep out of me.

That night when we both died, Voldemort and I. I killed him, but he was able to say one last spell and I wasn't able to dodge off. I only saw your worried eyes when I woke up, and when I sat up; my body didn't come with me.

I was dead.

I wasn't even a ghost, not like Sir Nick, I was a spirit, unseen but felt, and I looked around and saw everyone. Dumbledore, Ron, Sirius was there too, he was already free, Professors Lupin and even Snape were there, and even Hedwig and Hagrid, then there was you. Your worried eyes, spilling tears of lost hope and deep sorrow, hands, shaking, cupped to my chin, which was cold (I know), pleading that I open my eyes and wake up. I couldn't. I was too late, it wasn't your fault, not how you thought it was. It never was your fault. I told you not to call the others; I didn't want you to leave me, or to be alone with him during the last moments of my life. I knew it was coming, and he knew it was his time too. He was vanquished forever, a greater power inside of me, one that up till now no one can decipher the origin, had burst out and killed him. It was more powerful than the Avada Kedavra, more powerful than any of those major curses put together. So great they said it was, they named it after the only person who used it, for the first and last time. Me. I myself had been surprised at the sight. It came though, with a terrible price. My death? That wasn't half of it. The greatest and most heart aching thing it gave me was your tears that continued to fall, day and night. I couldn't stand to see you cry, and never there passed a day that you cried, that I didn't too.

But then, I would come and comfort you, my spirit floating beside you on the bridge. I'd try to hug you, even if I can't feel anything, and even if my arms would sometimes pass through your body, and send you shivers. You knew I was there, and you'd become cheerful again.

After walking through the bridge, drying a few tears, you pass by a series of roads and other museums built. Then you'd pass by a very big one, the Malfoys museum, and turn right. Following the stony pathway, heartbeat quickening, you turn left and walk straight to the last museum there, near the river. The Potters Museum. Not very large, just small enough to house the three of us, my mum my dad, and now myself. You'd go in, hand three or four flowers in my mom's tomb, light a few candles in my dad's and place the rest of the flowers on the basket on mine. Then you'd close your eyes, and silently cry. I was watching you, always. I try to comfort you again by coming close so you could feel me, but the sadness and hurt pangs your heart so much, you never notice me there. You spill your worries, your stories, events of the day, what happened to Crookshanks and Ron's coat. I listened to them all, laughing when you had a great day, crying when it's your worst day, most of all, regretting when you say you wish I was there, may it be joy or pain. After about an hour, you get up, blow the candles and leave the cemetery and go back to your work. This has been everyday for a couple of months, and now was the very first time you missed visiting me. And it's just so exacerbating, because I think that you've…forgotten me.

The night I died, you stayed the whole night long, holding my hand, sleeping for only a few hours, and waking back up again. You couldn't accept I was dead. The next day, I was in this place, some witch said a spell that removed my bruises, place make-up on my cold, rock-hard face. When they left, you were still here, holding my stiff hand.  You spoke to me, like I never died. And then when I was placed in the casket for the wake, you whispered something.

"You are handsome. Like you have always been." Tears spilling, I hurriedly reached your face and tried to wipe them away, but they passed through my fingers. I became frustrated at myself, not being able to hold you, even unable to hold myself, nor hug myself and cry, it was so painful. But then I hoped you felt me, and sometimes you do, other times it was just too hard. At least you got to know I was there, more than once, and you also told the little first years I was in their hearts.

My funeral, quiet, solemn, gloomy. There was a Eulogy, Dumbledore, Ron and you had speeches, all red nosed and puffy eyed. Voices fading, you finished your speeches and went back to your seats wiping tears away with handkerchiefs. It wasn't a very nice sight, people mourning for you. Well, yes I should be happy or flattered that many people thought of my death as an honorable one, and that many paid respect, but the fact that you died, whether honorable or not doesn't change the hurt you feel, unable to touch, to hear responds…

My casket was placed in the museum, in the middle of the remains of mum and dad, who after these months have tried to ease the pain I feel until now. And when everyone went off, you and Ron stayed here. It made me happy that you remember me, and Ron too, that's why I always anticipate your visits; hear your stories, events I would never experience with you ever again. I understand that Ron sometimes can't make it, being a family man and all. But I know that he has a lot of money now, very successful together with June, now able to spend more than enough for his mother and father. And I'm also grateful that you come everyday to visit me, despite your busy schedule.

How selfish of me, to think of you to come here everyday, but, I can't help it. I miss you so much. I follow you sometimes, and see that you mingle with a lot of people. Some new faces, new places, new events. And even if I'm there, I can't spend the time with you.

So now I've decided to find you, since you probably won't come here anymore, ever, I' d look for you, so that I'd be with you always. It's just heartbreaking to think that they have already forgotten me, because they know I always think about them. That after only a couple of months, they'd stop visiting, their trips here lessening, from week per week, to month per month, then once a year, or just during the holiday for the dead. It's like I was nothing to them, I can't hear them calling me, and everyone seems so busy.

I'm already in Hogwarts, seeing that Hagrid has some new animals, very happy talking to the newborns and grooming the feathers and skins of the mature ones. I went inside, a group of first years were very busy and nervous about their final exams, they had a new DADA Professor, I see, and hopefully, that person would break the rumor that the position is cursed. Professor Dumbledore, still busy as usual, Professor Snape, why would he think about me?

I see that Hermione wasn't there, and Ron too, so I decided to look someplace else.

They're probably in Ron's house, so I floated away from the school and towards the Burrow. Ron's house is just beside it, so that he could easily attend to his parents. When I was nearing it, however, I heard voices. Happy-tuned voices. They were having a little merrymaking in there. Of course, I wasn't invited. It was one of Ron's daughter's birthday and delicious smells came from the buffet area, there was a dance floor and there were a series of games played by almost everyone. Hermione was among them.

She seemed to be enjoying herself, and for a moment there, she felt happy, she was smiling, laughing, joking around. I was a happy for her. On the other hand, I was angry. How could have she forgotten me? Why? It's like nothing happened between us, nothing occurred for seven years. I remembered how quickly she wants to leave the cemetery, quickly blowing the candles, hurrying up tidying, and then I realized that she was so eager to go away, and have fun, completely forgetting me. 

I don't know how to feel, it's just that…I miss you. I don't know, I don't know. It just isn't fair. Why doesn't anyone notice me anymore? I just feel so alone. It's like after a few months, weeks, actually, I'm completely forgotten. Who cares if I'm forgotten by Hogwarts? I'm forgotten by my two closest friends. They aren't even remembering me here.

I just thought of how it was possible. Sat around and thought while they were almost at tears because of happiness. Who cares if no one remembers me? What pains me is how quickly they disregarded me. Just only yesterday, Hermione and Ron visited me, and now they're gone. I fear that this is the start of the years that I would be inexistent, not just physically, even gone in their hearts.

I continued to watch, as children scuttle around playing their games, adults joking, gossiping even, or talking about current events, but none of them talking about me. My death just happened weeks ago, and now, it's as if I didn't die. It's as if I was never born, even.

And then there was the blowing of cake, the candles lighting up by themselves. Fred and George never lost their interest for mischief and replaced one candle with a tricky one, charmed to never go off-EVER.

Ron's daughter, Kristin, was getting a bit worried, continually huffing and filling her mouth with as much air as possible. Her eyes were teary, showing that she wanted this to end, saying that she feared the heat of the candle would melt all the icing of her cake, which was made by Mrs. Weasley. Kristin's concern for her cake brought laughter to some of the adults there.  Of course, they sensed something fishy, especially Ron and his mother, so the twins quickly hurried up to their niece and took the still flaming candle and threw it in a basin of water, which one of them prepared. Of course, it was still lit, but because of the water it went off occasionally and then would light again.  While everyone else was eating cake, a very angry Mrs. Weasley and Ron, talked to the twins. This was the first time Ron didn't enjoy their jokes.

I however, went to Hermione, who was sitting beside Dumbledore, who just came, chatting about news, each other's lives, and the like. I can't stop thinking that they weren't talking about me. Both of them were very cheerful and relaxed actually, unlike their faces during my funeral, which I liked a bit. At least Hermione is very happy now, even without me.

Hermione realized it was getting late, so she bid goodbye to everyone, greeted Kristin again and talked to the child for a while, saying she was different, having a party at night, unlike other children who'd want it in the afternoon. Then she went off. She was very worried, I can see, and then I knew that because of all the things in her mind, she wouldn't be visiting me today, maybe not even tomorrow.

It was kind of depressing, to think that you're forgotten. I can't stop thinking about that. But I have to move on, and they have to as well. I have to accept I'm dead, and all I can do now is to cherish the wonderful moments I have experienced while I'm alive. Being away from the Dursley's, going to Hogwarts, meeting Hermione…things that even death cannot separate from me.

I stayed a bit longer at the party, then I started to float back to the cemetery. I past the guardhouse, (literally) and overheard the guard talking about someone pleading to be let in. How lucky for that dead person being visited, even after closing time. I gloomily walked past tombs and museums, saw a couple of people still there, these were probably who the guard was talking about, there was grandmother bidding her husband goodnight, and a man beside her, her son.

I passed through the doors of our museum, and there stood my mother and father smiling at me. Looking at who was by my grave.

Hermione.

When I saw her, I felt so guilty at myself, for having to think she forgot me, and every bad thought that came over my head about everybody who cared for me- Ron, Dumbledore, herself, were all erased. I sat beside her, stroking her hair, and she was crying, silently, but gladly for me, not as painfully as before. She was tracing the letters written in my grave, talking about what happened today.

"She felt you," my mother started, her angelic voice echoing inside, "she was talking about it a while ago. How you touched her during the party. That's why she came here tonight."

"She thought the guard wouldn't let her come in. She was so happy and relieved to be here." My father added. I was very happy too.

She fell asleep there, I was always by her side. If she had just stayed there for just a couple of minutes, I would be very happy, just because she remembered me.

But now I finally understand that she still has a life to live, just like everyone else I have left behind. Now, I know what I want for her. I want her to stop crying for me, and continue her life, like I never died. I want her to be free, and explore the world, because the world still has so much to give her. So many more dreams to achieve, so many more adventures to experience, so many more lessons to learn. Not to mention so many more jokes to laugh about, even so many more tears to cry.  I want her to stop worrying about me, because I'm always there. And I want her to know that I'm always in her heart, and that when she calls me, I'm always with her.

Though there would be a lot separating me from you, I would never forget everything you would have done for me. There would always be the joy that I feel, how my heart leaps when you are near me, the pain we felt, how you comfort me, the encouraging you did, pushing me to go on, when I've lost all hope.

It's ironic to think that a couple of hours before, I wanted her to stop her life and just come to me everyday. I was wrong. She should be happy, she deserves to be. And I know that she would still remember me, even if she doesn't visit me. I'd watch her grow, perhaps help her meet a man that would ease all her burdens. If they'd marry, I'd be happy for them, and I'd be proud of her. I'd watch her grow old, her hair would turn to gray, and she would have grandchildren, and she would tell stories about me, about us, and our adventures. I know that I'll miss her, and everyone, and that I'll be sad when they'd stop visiting me anymore, but I can always come to her, when she can't come to me, and hopefully, like what happened a few hours ago, she'd feel me. And then I'd wait for her to come with me, and we would start a conversation that would last for a long time.

I kissed her forehead as she starts to wakes up…

A/N: I don't know if this made you cry, I just thought about it while watching news. Not that I watch news everyday…it was about this actress here whose boyfriend died and her sister was having a party for her daughter, and she attended the party, and they were all happy and I just thought, what if the boyfriend was watching, how would he feel seeing that his girlfriend was already happy, just after months that he died. Finally, I wrote an angsty fic, I don't know if it's really angsty but it's my first angst fic. It's better reading angst than making one. Please R/R! I'm thinking of continuing it…