Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and never will!
A/N: I got this story off of an Indian movie. If you don't know it, please don't watch it because I don't want to ruin it for you. If you do know it, please don't spoil it for others. Thanks a lot!
Chapter 1: Memories
It had been five years since Ron had died in the hands of Voldemort and now this...
Harry stood and watched as Ashley's coffin was lowered into the ground. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks and the hurt in his eyes was unbearable. He stood there, remembering her...
Flashback
"Hey, Harry. Want to be friends?" Ashley said.
"Hmm. Sure, after all, it is our wedding night," Harry said softly.
"Maybe you're right. Oh, forget all this nonsense. Come here and kiss me."
"I'll be glad to..."
One year later
"Oh my gosh! She's kicking! Harry come here!" Ashley yelled across the house.
Harry ran to the living room as fast as his legs could carry him. He placed a hand on Ashley's stomach. He couldn't feel anything.
"Haha, you're too late!"
"Why do I always miss it," he pouted.
"Because she doesn't like you!"
"We'll decide that when she's born!"
"Of course, Honey." Ashley said, with a smirk across her lips.
In the hospital not long after
Ashley held her baby with as much care as possible. Harry's house caretaker/motherly figure, Anna, sat beside her.
"She looks just like her father, doesn't she?" Ashley said, admiringly.
End of Flashback
Harry still stood in the same spot. Ashley's coffin looked so unreal. This wasn't happening to him. It couldn't be...
Flashback
"Ashley's condition is very critical," the doctor said to Harry, "She doesn't have much time. We tried our best, but she had so much internal bleeding, that we couldn't do anything. She knew there would be complications in her delivery. But she also knew how much you wanted this child. She loved this baby more than her own life."
Harry just sat there.
In the next room
"I want my daughter to know me," Ashley told Anna, "Who her mother was, what was she like. I want her to be able to answer all these questions by herself. I am leaving these eight letters for her; one for each of her first eight birthdays. These letters have everything that I want to tell my daughter. These letters are going to be her memories."
Ashley kissed her daughter all over and handed her to a crying Anna.
Harry stood near the doorway. He walked over to Ashley's bed. Anna got up and left them to their privacy. He sat down and stared at the floor in silence.
"You're very bad," Harry said, between sobs, "You're very bad."
"Harry," Ashley said, trying to brighten the mood, "Hey, Harry. Want to be friends?"
Harry slowly turned his face toward her and shook his head.
"Promise me," Ashley said, "Promise me you will never cry."
Harry shook his head.
"Never," Ashley sobbed.
He shook his head again.
"Anyways," Ashley laughed through her tears, "You look very bad when you cry."
They both stared at each other with a faint smile playing across their lips.
"Can you promise me one more thing?" Ashley asked.
He shook his head.
"Please?" She pleaded.
Again, he shook his head, but Ashley didn't care.
"Promise me you'll name our daughter Hermione."
Harry looked up at her and locked his green eyes with her blue ones.
"Ok, Harry? Promise me," She broke down, "I am sorry Harry. I am really sorry."
"Don't go," was the only thing that escaped his lips.
She hugged him and they stayed like that for a while.
End of Flashback
She did go. Harry stood there and felt so helpless. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing. Her voice echoed in his head. Promise me you'll name our daughter Hermione.
Eight Years Later
Mya posed in front of the camera. She was almost eight years old. She couldn't wait for her birthday. One day, when she was old enough, she was going to be a big journalist for The Daily Prophet. So, now, she was practicing.
"Hey," Hermione said to the camera, "I'm Hermione. But everyone calls me Mya. You're watching channel...Mya. I'm going to grow up and be a famous journalist! You know, just like Nicole Skeeter. Thank the lord that woman didn't grow up to be like her mother! My hobbies are...eating chocolate, beating up boys, frustrating Anna, and...reading Mom's letters. Hey, I'm late. I have to get ready and go meet Daddy. But I'll be back next week, same time, and same place. Watch me!"
Mya turned off her camera, grabbed her jacket, and rushed out to go and meet her father.