He walks on the frost covered grass, it crunches under his feet. The soft noise of his falling footsteps gives him time to think of his life, it has been an emotional roller coaster. Voldemort. Who had been the bane of his existence, taking away his parents, forcing to live in a house where he was hated. Taking away his only father figure he had in his life and having to abandon his life to train for that monster's down fall. Friends had died at the monster's hands for information; Ron and Luna had died to save him. The man who destroyed his life had fallen and now he was a bigger celebrity than he was when he was just the Boy-Who-Lived, now his is the Boy-Who-Lived-AGAIN! Wow! That has to be an accomplishment, to have your life in danger so many times that they give a dumber title than before. God! He just wanted to have his Muìrn Beatha Dàn back. He stopped walking at looked to the sky. Her red mane of hair softly flowing down her back, like water, those dazzling cinnamon colored eyes so full of life, even in the darkest times, the light dust of freckles across her nose, her pale skin, like the moon of a starless night, her small frame, that would melt perfectly in to his, and her smile, it would make him pour his soul out to her. God, she smelled of cinnamon and fall, oh how he missed that smell, she was his world. He hated how now he was forced to look at the ground and see something he wished he would never have to see. He promised her that he would die before she was ever harmed, but here he was, still alive, but how he wished he wasn't. He broke that promise and she was the on the pay the price. His tears were slowly falling on to a piece of polished white marble, as he kneeled on the frozen grass, he gasped as he ran finger s over the carving in the stone. His Muìrn Beatha Dàn was gone and he would never be the same again. The other side of his heart of here, his voice choked with emotion he gasps on word
"Ginny."
The stone said 'Ginny Weasley, the light in the darkest night, May your slumber be a peaceful one. ' She is dead. Now seeing this makes it final. He will never be the same. He lays a black rose of the stone the same thing he will do from this day on, in her memory.
"Goodbye for tonight my love." He says as he turns and walks in to darkness.
Please this is my second try at this, I am very sensitive so please be gentle. And if anyone can tell me were the word Muìrn Beatha Dàn comes from you will a virtual cookie.
Alyz