The Last Letter
Ginny Weasley was a complete mess. It was six months since they had won the war, but Ginny still couldn't get over it. She sobbed and sobbed for hours on end everyday, reading letters and looking at photographs of them together. Together.
But now they weren't together. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were not together. Harry Potter had died in the war, fighting against Voldemort. He defeated Voldemort, but doing that had cost him his life. Ever since, Ginny had been depressed. She wouldn't leave the house unless it was necessary, she had garbage and other rubbish lying all around the house, there were papers and papers of things floating around, and her bills had gone up enormously. And to add on to that, she had a baby boy – little Andrew Potter – who needed taking care of frequently.
Ginny took another shoebox down from her closet, which contained letters and other old things. She opened it and rummaged through it. There was a copy of the wedding invitation at the top of the pile. She closed her eyes and remembered the day he asked her to marry him. Ginny jubilantly accepted, and they lived happily ever after. Ha, she wished.
It was a week before their wedding when they needed Harry's help with the war. They had to put off the wedding until after he came back. He promised her that it would only be a month and that they would get married the day he came back. Ginny waited and waited for him. Every night she would pray he would come home safely. But Harry didn't come back. A month passed. Three months passed. Five months passed. She loyally waited for his return. Every time the doorbell rang, her heart would leap, thinking her Harry was home. He wrote to her, reassuring her that he would be back home soon. But alas – that was never the case. Ginny began to lose hope in him coming back soon.
Then that faithful day arrived – May 14th, 2002. The doorbell rang at her house at 8:00 in the morning.
Ding-dong.
Ginny, who was holding a cup of tea, in her pajamas, opened the door.
It was Ron.
"Ron? What are you doing here?" Ginny inquired. He didn't answer. Ron had an expressionless look on his face. "Ron?"
"I think we'll have to sit down, Gin." Ron answered. They walked over into the living room and sat down on Ginny's couch. Ginny suspected bad news – like Harry wouldn't be home for another year or so.
"So, what is it?" Ginny asked, the tea cup still in his hand.
Ron looked down at his feet, then back up at Ginny.
"Harry—Harry's gone. He died last night while defeating V-Voldemort. He sacrificed himself for the safety of the wizarding world. I'm sorry, Gin." Ron explained, his voice quivering.
Ginny dropped her teacup. It shattered into a million pieces, like her heart did in those past thirty seconds.
She couldn't believe it – Harry couldn't have died! He was Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The boy she loved.
"Are you sure? He couldn't - " Ginny began.
"He's dead, Ginny." Ron repeated. "I'm sorry."
A sudden anger arose in Ginny. Burning fury. Harry couldn't be dead. Ron was lying to her.
"You're lying!" Ginny abruptly screamed. "He's not dead!"
"Gin,"
"Stop! You're just trying to hide him from me! I know he's alive!" Ginny yelled back. She stormed out of the room and ran upstairs into her room.
She ripped a sheet of paper from her notebook and wrote a letter to him, talking about how mad Ron was trying to tell her that he was dead. She went on and on – for three pages. There were blotches stained on the paper from the tears she cried.
She snatched her owl, Heather, and tied the letter to her leg.
"Get this to Harry, okay?" She said roughly. The owl flew off into the sky.
She cried. She shouldn't be crying – Harry wasn't dead! He just wasn't. She knew that. Ron was lying. Tears choked her.
Ginny waited for several days in her room. She had called her muggle friend from across the street to take care of Andrew for a few days. She barely ate or slept. She just waited by the window.
But two weeks passed, and there was no letter. Ginny got angry – why wasn't Harry answering her? She wrote another letter, and another, and another. She wrote every day and night, remaining in her house until he replied.
The letter never came.
Ginny sniffled as she rummaged through the box some more. She reread all of the letters. She nearly knew them by heart. But there was one letter at the bottom of the shoebox. It was an unopened one, addressed to her.
Ginny curiously opened it: It was from Harry. It was dated May 13th, 2002.
Dear Gin,
Are you doing okay? Is Andrew doing well? I'd expect so, he's my son!Ginny laughed sadly. Everything is fine here. We're winning the war. We have a lead to where Voldemort is. I'll be home very soon. I can smell it.
I feel terrible though. I've been putting off this wedding for so long – it's entirely my fault. You're so strong, Ginny. You've been waiting for me all this time. You're the best woman anyone could ever have. You're the bravest, strongest, kindest, funniest, prettiest person on earth. Stay strong for me, just a while longer. I think about you all the time. I'll be home quite soon.
Love,
Harry
It was a short letter, but it meant the entire world to Ginny. Tears ran down her cheeks like waterfalls, but she swallowed these tears. She had to be strong. She couldn't weep over Harry her entire life. Then she wouldn't be what he thought she was.
I'll be home quite soon. Ginny reread.
"You already are," Ginny whispered.
hey! This is a short one-shot I wrote in my spare time. Please be nice and dropme a review!
ss1128