This is a very short little oneshot about Harry, Ginny, and their child. It is set after the second war is over. It is very sad. I would love to hear what you think of it.
Harry held her hand in his. Ron was by his side, tears silently flowing down his cheeks. Hermione was holding the baby, Lily. Lily was beautiful; she had her father's brilliant green eyes and her mother's vibrant red hair; visible despite the fact that she was only two hours old.

Harry looked from his daughter to her mother and closed his eyes. His past seemed so surreal all of the sudden. He had grown, both in talent and skill over the last two years. He had searched for the last of the Horcruxes, and destroyed them one by one. He had faced Voldemort, at the height of his second reign of terror, and lived to tell the tale. He had joined the Aurors in rounding up the last of the Death Eaters after Voldemort's death. And all of that seemed like a mere dream now; a distant memory of a bedtime story. He would tell Lily that story someday.

Even after all that, as he sat here by her side, he suddenly felt as lost, hopeless, and confused as he had the night that Sirius had passed through the veil. He suddenly saw death the way Voldemort had; as a weakness. It hurt to admit it, but as he watched the life of the woman he loved slipping through his fingers, he suddenly felt sorry for Voldemort. Sorry, for the infant who lost all who ever loved him, before he knew how it felt to be loved. Sorry, for the boy whose fate was decided the moment his mother died. He wondered: would things have been different if someone had taken the time to love the little orphaned wizard boy?

Harry didn't even look up as Lupin entered the room and took Lily from Hermione. He knew his child would never have to know what it felt like to be unloved. He was thinking about the last year of his life. With Voldemort gone, Ginny was in no danger and they could be together. Life had been perfect then, or at least, as perfect as it could be in the after-mass of the war. Once everyone had taken plenty of time to mourn their losses, and start to rebuild their shattered lives, Harry and Ginny had wed.

Now, even that felt like some wonderful dream of a long ago time, in a faraway place. Ginny had fought through the war, had faced some of the worst imaginable enemies. She had always been strong, and he knew it. Yet, right here, right now, the only thing he felt was that she was the helpless girl he had saved in his second year; and he was the 12 year old boy fighting for her life.

There was a hand on his shoulder; it was a warm gesture, lending him hope. He looked up into the eyes of Remus Lupin. They were filled with tears and he still held Lily Ginerva Potter in his arms. Harry had only ever seen Lupin like this once before; upon hearing the new of Dumbledore's demise. He smiled encouragingly at Harry.

A soft moan broke into Harry's thoughts. He turned to look at his wife. Her face was pale and sweaty beneath a mess of wild red hair. She drew a shuddering breath and Harry leaned closer. A stifled sob escaped Hermione and she slid down the wall, burying her face in her knees. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand as she whispered her last words. And with one last, small smile, she was gone. She had slipped away, no matter how tight he had held onto her.

Ron turned and left without a word. Lupin took Lily and led Hermione from the room; she had burst into furious tears and was calling Ginny's name. Harry was left alone with his wife.

He brushed her hair back off her face, never letting go of her hand. He kissed her forehead, tears sliding down his cheeks and onto her face, as clutched her hand to his chest. He closed her eyes and sat, staring, at the woman whose life had been cut short; not by her enemies, but by giving life to the child she loved. He replayed her last words in his head: Never give up. He kissed her hand softly. "I won't," he whispered, "I won't."