A long time ago, when I was much younger and full of dreams of unicorns and castles and unconditional happiness, I truly believed that love could save us all. I believed the folk lore that love was unstoppable, unconquerable, and unbreakable. I believed that simply by loving someone I could save him from the harms of the world. I could save him from the pain, the sacrifice, and the hurt. That my love was enough to make that all go away.
Somewhere along the line, when the war and the deaths had gotten too hard to bear, my beliefs started to change. I started to understand that I couldn't save someone from pain, sacrifice, and hurt. That I couldn't save someone from a world in which they were the pinnacle to survival itself. Nevertheless, somewhere deep in the pits of my heart, in the area that was still 14 and full of unicorns, castles, and happiness, I still believed that my love could keep someone alive. Merlin would know; he knew everything. He would realize that this boy, this perfectly abnormal boy, was someone's everything. He would realize that this boy was worth saving because someone loved him. Because I loved him.
It wasn't until Ron walked through the door of the Burrow, his face scrunched up very tight and his eyes the color of the midnight sky, that I realized Merlin wouldn't be able to stop the world this time around. I realized in that split second that my love really couldn't save him; that he had died anyway. That a world he hadn't wanted and a destiny he couldn't get away from had taken him from me. That the very things I had once so foolishly believed I could protect him from were the things that had been his downfall.
The service had been small. Ron and Hermione had spoken, but I don't really remember comprehending what they were saying. I had been staring at the sky, which was respectfully dark with bits of oversized jet-black clouds that only offered rain tears as condolences. My mother had sat behind me dabbing her eyes and sniffing every few minutes to conceal her tears. I cried them freely. The few that ventured to look at me did so sparingly as they walked past, attempting to hid their looks of pity. As a child, I had always demanded that no one pity me. Now I wished they did it more.
The last of my family left, deciding to leave me alone with a casket I couldn't bear to go near even if I tried. The rain lapped at my dress robes; starchy and pressed just for such a formal occasion. The alter that had stood as the podium for the eulogy stood like a sculpture in front of me, the cherry wood reflecting a small cascading current of light down towards the casket. It was beckoning me, as if daring me to have the courage to go up to it.
I stood on shaky feet and got closer, but not nearly close enough to touch. I held my hand out in front of me, hoping beyond all hope that maybe the dream that had been the last few days would end. That he would appear out of nowhere, his ebony hair clinging to his nose from the rain and his glasses fogged up. That he would kiss me like there was no tomorrow and tell me he loved me and would never let me go. That he would get rid of You-Know-Who and we could live the normal teenage life that we were deprived of so young. That we could snog and not worry who was the next to leave.
I began to lose track of whether or not there was rain or tears on my face, but I didn't care. I shouted loudly to the heavens, demanding that Merlin give me him back. That I needed him. Life couldn't go on without him, I reckoned. Even if I didn't deserve him back, even if my life and my problems weren't worth it enough to send him back, that there were people who needed him. The wizarding world needed him.
The wind blew viciously around me then, pulling at my robes and the scarf I had barely tied around my neck. The few leaves that were still on the ground from the daily raking swirled around my ankles in cascades of crimson, ginger, and russet. I laughed viciously; wind games were not my idea of a proper apology.
It was then that he appeared in front of me, barely there at all but visible enough that I could make out the emerald of his eyes and the bottle green of his fancy dress robes he had been wearing. He was sporting a cocky grin as he pushed a stray piece of hair away from the lightning-bolt scar that had always dubbed him so famous. The scar that had originally caused me to fall helplessly in love with him.
"Harry," I whispered, afraid I might send him away.
"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously, not bothering to move from his materialized spot, "The reception is inside. I reckon Ron's already beyond pissed." I laughed, more for the fact that he was attempting to be funny.
"I don't want to be at a party," I responded. He frowned and extended his arm, pointing towards where I should have been, where the people I knew and cared for waiting.
"You need to be in there. You need to be with your family. You need to be away from out here."
"I can't," I said, shaking slightly, "I don't know how to move on."
"I'm telling you to move on. I'm telling you that you need to go on with your life. I'm telling you that the people in there need you ten times more than my casket could ever need you. Go on with your life. Grow up, have kids, get a decent job. Love everyday that you have and love the way you have it…"
"I can't," I said, screaming a little louder this time.
"Of course you can," he simply responded, shaking his head, "You just have to try. This was my time to die, not yours. Merlin doesn't want you by his side yet. Your place is here, fighting the good fight and living every moment like it's the last breath you'll ever have. Living free without regrets." He stopped and looked beyond himself, as if searching for an invisible person that would never be there, "I need to go. I need you to live. That you'll remember what you have in the world and just leave me behind. I couldn't bear to see you unhappy."
"But I love you!"
"I love you too Ginny. I love you enough to know that I can't keep you from moving on. That I won't let you mourn me for the rest of forever. I love you enough to make you understand that you need to let me go, at least enough to find someone else to fill that void in your heart. I couldn't do it…but I want you to find someone that can." He smiled again and slowly disappeared into the sheets of oncoming rain. I felt the tears fall in torrents then, my fists balling up next to my legs until I could cry no more. Until the sky could no longer keep up with me and the sun broke through, dotting the small field with uncanny bits of brilliant opaque light.
I sniffed back my next tear and turned towards the reception, where I knew I would find the people that Harry had told me matter the most. The people who knew me, understood me, and would always be there for me. The people who he had loved just as much as I did. As I walked across the now empty service area, I could feel just the slightest bit of my 14 year-old-self returning. No, I wasn't naïve, young, and full of absurd aspirations. I didn't believe in castles, unicorns, and unconditional happiness. I realized, for maybe the first time in my life, that my love was unstoppable, unconquerable, and unbreakable. It stretched to the far corners of life and death. It was the type of love that kept people going and the type that would last long after Harry Potter was simply a memory to the wizarding world. It was the type that truly could save us all.