My Last
By SnakeEyesHannah
Disclaimer: Nothing in this story is mine; it is the ever-talented JK Rowling's work that I borrowed.
Summary: There's only so much a person can go through in life without being affected by it. I had memories to last an eternity and I was twenty years old. Now I'm fifty-one, imagine how many I have now… The three most powerful memories in the eyes of Ginevra Weasley. -Rating for death-
Over the years I've been through tough times, sad times and wonderful times. But three moments will never leave my mind as long as I can still think and remember. Two are the worst of my life, the third the absolute best…
The first one is the least painful one to think about. Everyone knows about this time, but only one person but me really knows what happened. It was when I was eleven years old, a skinny, ugly, shy girl who had a crush on her brother's best friend.
That whole year was awful for me, but there is one special event that people still talk about, even now, forty years later.
It's the Chamber of Secrets-event that I'm sure you've heard of.
Even to this day I shiver and my blood seems to turn into ice whenever the memory comes back to me. It feels like I'm back on that wet and cold floor, hearing Tom's cold, cruel voice laugh and taunt me. Luckily I don't think of that much anymore.
The thing that gets me out of that nightmare is the thought of my rescue. My hero that saved me. The thought of Harry…
I remember hearing Harry's voice and then hearing Tom's. I remember hearing Harry ask how I got like this, dead to the world, but still drawing breath and fully alive in mind. Tom had then explained how everything was, how the Basilisk had been set loose in the school, how the messages on the walls had appeared, why the roosters had been killed… It had all been my fault. In my eyes it still was, but Harry would tell me later – over and over when it all was behind us – that it was Tom's fault.
I still smile remembering this. Every time I felt like going under from guilt that I almost killed friends of mine Harry had always been there, looked at me with his gorgeous emerald eyes, said in a firm voice that I was not to blame for anything. He always looked so adorable in those moments that I couldn't possibly do, think or say anything to displease him.
I think that most of my memories are in some extent related to him. To Harry. He's my everything, really. It sounds bloody corny, I know, but it's true. My fondest and happiest memories are connected with him.
He was the only person that could understand me, understand what I had been through and the same applied to me. We could connect in other ways no one else could. I could reach him when 'Mione or Ron couldn't.
I think that's why he was drawn to me, why he chose me to open up to in his seventh year at Hogwarts. He had been keeping everything bottled up and all secrets to himself. I remember feeling so proud and so honored he chose me to confide in.
I had held him countless times when he cried and missed Sirius, his parents, when he missed being carefree.
I had been his shoulder to cry on and he had been mine. We shared our experiences and I think that was the turning point for Harry. He started seeing things with new eyes, me included.
I remember our first kiss. It was Christmas. We were home at the Burrow and alone in the kitchen while mum were fussing over Fred and George pulling some pranks on Bill and Charlie. A harmless prank, but it always pushed mum's buttons when the twins were at it again.
We were really supposed to be doing the dishes, but I kept being distracted by that Harry was looking at me.
'What?' I had asked. He had smiled at me, made my heart flutter. Without saying anything he leaned closer and kissed me. Short, sweet and it made my heart race. Later I would recall having some chocolate left on my lips after the dessert and I would always use that against him to get a kiss. Worked like a charm every time.
Even though that is one of my fondest memories, it isn't my strongest. Our wedding and when I found out I was pregnant is. You can say it's my patronus, my happy thought.
The whole ceremony is still a bit of a blur for me as I was pretty much high on love and happiness that day.
I knew I was pregnant just hours before the wedding and I couldn't tell Harry before the ceremony so I guess that's the cause of the mysterious smile on my face when looking through our photo album. Everyone's always wondered why. I never told them, only Harry…
But like every story it had to end. There aren't such things as 'happily ever after'. Well, maybe apart from Ron and Hermione, but they're the exception, not the rule.
I guess a lot of people thought the war was over when Tom had been keeping quiet for over seven years. Just like they thought Tom was gone when Harry's parents died. Almost all had been lulled into a false security and started to live their lives again. But it was only the calm before the storm.
Just after I had given birth to two absolutely gorgeous twins, James and Liliana, Tom decided that now was the time to strike. And just like the first war it was brutal. Tom had been secretly, quietly lured all kinds of dark creatures to his side.
Every tale needs its hero, and we had ours. We had our secret weapon that wasn't all that secret. We had Harry.
Our lives - mine, Harry's, Ron and Hermione's -, almost everyone's lives followed the books of knights, damsels in distress, heroic acts and of dragons, wicked sorcerers and dark magic. We lived by the fairytale. But no fairytales can be a fairytale without great sacrifices. I think ours was the greatest in history.
It was the culmination of the war. So many people had died; so many people were left alone in the world without sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, families and lovers… We had lost some of our finest witches and wizards. Dear, beloved, klutzy Hagrid… The loving, caring and nursing professor Sprout… The ever-wise, loving, intelligent, cunning and crazy Dumbledore had fallen to evil… Even the greasy-haired Potionsmaster Snape had died, saving Hermione "Mud-blood" Granger of all people…
Everyone killed in that battle would be remembered, honored and respected by all. But that still isn't my worst memory. It's not even close.
My worst memory doesn't even begin until the last day of the battle. When people thought darkness had been beaten once again, when the dark forces were on retreat, it was only then Tom himself decided to show up at the battlefield.
I can't really remember who spotted him first, me, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna or Harry. But before anyone had time to raise the alarm and before we had time to regroup, everything was frozen. Silence ruled the field. Nothing could be heard for miles but Tom's evil laugh. He was mocking us. We could see and hear, but do nothing.
It was only after standing before us and laughing in our faces for what seemed like an eternity that Tom, with a careless flick of his wand, released Harry from the spell everyone was under.
No one could do anything. No one could aid either one of them - it was only the two of them. Harry and Tom. Good and Evil. You could see the hatred radiating from both of them. Tom hating all that was good, pure and happy. Harry hating everything Tom stood for.
Then it began. The last fight. Curses were flying all over, colorful rays of light streaming endlessly from the two wands. My heart was in my throat every time Tom shot a hex or a curse Harry's way. Each curse I prayed to be the last.
If it had been a fair fight, Harry would have won easily, but this was Tom, "fair fight" didn't exist in his vocabulary. He did what Harry feared the most. He took me hostage. As Tom was keeping me unable to move or talk I tried to tell Harry through my eyes that I was willing to die if it meant killing Tom too. I was more than willing to end Tom's terror. But by loving me, Harry couldn't do that. He hesitated, Tom took advantage of this and spoke those dreadful words.
'Avada Kedavra!'
I've heard the curse being thrown more than once. I've heard and seen the full effect of it, but it never hit me like it did that moment, and it didn't even hit me. I screamed. There was nothing more I could do. I heard, more than saw or felt, Tom go rigid and fall dead to the ground beside me, but I couldn't think about that.
I remember Harry's lifeless body lying on the ground. I remember taking his head into my lap, telling him everything was going to be fine. His amazing powers allowed him to stay alive just long enough to tell me he loved me. My name was the last thing he ever said on this earth.
I remember those gorgeous emerald eyes, usually full of life, grow dark and dull. He stopped fighting and with a relived smile on his face he was gone. He left the world. He left me.
I've kept living, even though I've been dead since Harry left. I haven't been able to sleep properly in over twenty years as his face haunts my dreams. My beloved children, Liliana and James, have made me forget temporarily, but not entirely. I can never forget.
They know what I've been through; they know I've become a shadow of my past self. They try to make me better, but no one can do that. Only Harry. I love my angels to death, I do, but I just can't live on in this world anymore.
I have done what I had to do. I helped Harry when he needed me in order for him to save the world. But saving the world wasn't Harry's only job. He had to save me. But he's not here to get me through the day; he's not here to make my time worthwhile.
So that is why I wrote this. In a diary, even. I need to explain to myself and to my lovely children that I do not do this to hurt anyone. I hurt everybody, my relatives the most, by being alive so I won't be hurting them any more.
As you may have figured out by now, this is my good-bye. My last entry. My last day. But I have one single wish that needs to be fulfilled before I can move on and finally reunite with my beloved Harry again. I wish you all the best. I wish everyone the best. This world its best. I've loved every minute spent on this earth with the people close to me – I am forever in your debt.
I love you all, my family and friends especially, and I hope and pray you live long and happy. Think of those who died to save your lives but to not mourn them any more, celebrate their courage and their strength. But most of all celebrate your own lives and take care of those you love. Nothing is as important…
Author's note: Very different from what I usually write. Constructive critisism is more than welcomed, although please, no flames! This is something I wrote quite a long time ago...