so this is a separate story. it doesnt go along with anything in the other story, but it is still a ginny harry romance thingy. enjoy.


Ginny came to with a pounding headache. All the memories of the past hour shot through her brain as if she was seeing them again for the first time, but at a much quicker speed. Being dragged along by some man in a mask, the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, the joy and the dread she'd felt when she'd opened her eyes to see Harry sprinting towards her, and finally the realization that she would die as she watched Harry collapse in exhaustion and pain. That was the last she remembered. Soon after that, she heard Voldemort say something but she hadn't been thinking clearly; everything hurt so much and the only thing she wanted to do now was die, for everything to end. She'd blacked out and seen nothing more.

She supposed she'd finally died, but that didn't explain how or why she was waking up. Expecting to open her eyes to stare down the end of a black wand into the cold red eyes of the man who'd finally won, she forced the lids open. No one was around, at least that she could see.

"Maybe they're hiding, just waiting for me to try to escape," she thought bitterly.

But, at the same time she realized that couldn't be right. Why wouldn't they just kill her now? It wasn't like she meant anything to them. "Well," she decided angrily, "it would definitely be easier to think if ears would stop ringing!"

Suddenly she sat up. A sound, something like a groan, had penetrated the infernal noise. She frantically looked around her, but she couldn't see anything through the mist still covering her eyes.

She rubbed her eyes hard and blinked a few times to clear her vision. Finally, everything came into focus. It was then that she caught sight of Voldemort's motionless body. She celebrated silently for a moment before realizing Harry was nowhere to be found. Quicker than she thought possible, she was on her feet, craning her neck for a glimpse of messy black hair and brilliant green eyes. There, in the corner of whatever room she'd been held in, lay a figure curled up tightly, his emerald eyes closed as if in a deep sleep.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted, not bothering to keep her voice down now. She dashed to the corner and fell to her knees beside her motionless friend.

"Wake up!" she whispered frantically, rolling him onto his back.

Nothing.

"Harry?" she asked, shaking him forcefully. "Please, get up," she whined.

Still nothing.

Angry tears welled in her eyes and she choked out again, "Wake up!"

But he still didn't move.

"No!" she sobbed loudly as she collapsed over Harry, hugging him close and brushing his hair back off his forehead. His normally pale scar bled as if it had just been etched into his skin.

And yet, something just didn't seem right. Even as she held Harry close, she felt something on her face, like someone's breath tickling her cheek. She sat up wildly and watched for any sign of movement. Sure enough, she could see an almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest. A relief she'd never known before swept through her and she fell limp at his side, unable to move. She still lay there five minutes later when Harry began to stir.

With a pitiful moan, he brought his hands to his face and held his forehead tightly. "My head," he hissed.

After a moment, he turned his attention to Ginny whose eyes were closed and her lips pressed tightly together.

"Ginny, are you okay?" he asked quickly, sitting up.

She opened her eyes and nodded.

Harry sat up on his knees. "What happened?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know."

Harry gazed back, his eyes emotionless. When he spoke again, he used a hollow tone to match his expression. "It's over, isn't it?"

Ginny never answered.

Slowly, Harry got to his feet. He seemed to be favoring his right ankle, so Ginny helped him to the door. She poked her head outside and saw no one.

Ginny couldn't believe what had happened. Hogwarts had been her home for seven years and now it was barely standing. She knew it could be fixed, but to think, she'd always felt nothing could touch her here. She should have known better after first year she thought.

Harry suddenly stopped walking, jolting Ginny out of her thoughts. "Harry, what is it?" she asked

"Neville's dead!" he exclaimed angrily, kneeling beside the dead boy. "But he was fine when I left to get you," he said in disbelief. After staring a moment he abandoned Ginny and limped off on his own towards the front doors.

"Harry, wait!" Ginny called out, trying to catch up. Even injured, Harry could still move at a quick pace. She grabbed his arm and he whirled around to face her, his eyes shiny with tears that he refused to let fall.

"Neville's dead!" he shouted in a strained voice. "I didn't save him…I let him die, Gin! I was here and I could have helped him…" he continued angrily.

"No, Harry, Neville was trying to help you. It's not your fault."

"So it's his fault, I suppose," Harry yelled back at her, wrenching his arm from her grasp and looking at her as if she disgusted him.

"No, I didn't say that! It wasn't his fault either," she tried to explain.

"Stop being so calm about this. A lot of people died today and you're just standing there…" he choked.

"What do you want me to do, scream at you too?" she asked, unaware of her voice rising to match his. "You need to find Dumbledore, talk to him, and ask him what to do now that—."

"Just shut up!" he screamed, putting his hands over his ears. "You don't know what you're talking about! What has that man ever done for me? Nothing! He wasn't even here today, so just shut up about things you don't understand!"

"I understand a lot more than you might think, Harry! 'That man' loved you like a son. He spent every waking hour trying to protect you, so don't you dare say he's never done anything for you!" Ginny shouted, refusing to believe what she was hearing. She took a deep breath and started over, "Let's go find Dumble—"

"That's it!" Harry said quietly. "I've had it. Good-bye."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here anymore," he said, limping down the stone steps and leaning heavily on the railing.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you thick, Ginny? I'm leaving. I'm tired of everyone treating me like I'm something special, I'm tired of Hogwarts, I'm tired of death…. Hell, I'm tired of magic all together. Good-bye."

"Where will you go?" she asked, running down the stairs after him.

"What do you care?"

She caught up with him quickly after that. In a flash she'd drawn back her hand and slapped her friend hard across the face. "Harry James Potter, don't you ever say that I don't care about you again. I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is since you're running away from the only one's who've ever given it to you. You wanna leave us, go ahead, but don't expect to find what you had here anywhere else," she said before storming angrily away.


One year later, Harry sat in his dreary apartment in New York City. Of all the places he could have picked, New York had seemed the best. The constant fear of being robbed blind kept him on his toes, though it wasn't like he had much to steal. Then, all the hustle and bustle of the big city took his mind off other things, things he didn't want to think about. The only time he really dreaded was the night, when he was forced to relive his past.

It wasn't like he wanted to remember his friends. More than anything he would have liked to forget them and move on to live his life. And yet, he liked to think back on all the good times; being picked for Quidditch, winning the house cup, winning the Quidditch Cup, watching Hermione and Ron avoid each other at all costs so neither would realize they were in love with the other, seeing them get together, graduating for Hogwarts, all these memories Harry wanted to remember while at the same time desperately trying to forget.

This particular night, the city seemed quieter than normal, though Harry wasn't sure if it was because he was imagining it. Perhaps it had to do with it being exactly a year since Harry had left the Weasleys', but the memories seemed to be flooding his mind a bit more than usual. He sat there, staring at a blank wall, watching his last conversation with Ginny.

Out of nowhere her hand had landed sharply on his cheek leaving a sting Harry would never have expected from a girl her size.

"Harry James Potter, don't you ever say that I don't care about you again. I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is since you're running away from the only ones who've ever given it to you. You wanna leave, go ahead but don't expect to find what you had here anywhere else."

Harry had been dumbfounded. In seven years of knowing the girl, he'd never heard her use that tone of voice with anyone, even Malfoy. He felt ashamed of himself, speaking to her like that, and then hurting all the people who loved him by running away. And even after all he'd done, they still continued to write to him. Hermione wrote at least every other day. She'd even convinced Ron to give up his grudge and write once a week. Ginny had only written twice and Harry could tell she was still angry with him. Even in her anger she told Harry every letter that she still cared about him and wanted him to come home. Harry always wrote back, though it was only to say thanks for caring but he wouldn't be returning yet, if he went back at all. Harry wished they'd all just let him be.

He sat in silence for a few more minutes and was just about to get up and head to bed, even though it was only eight, when something hit him a like a ton of bricks. What was that Ginny had said?

"…I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is…"

Harry's mouth fell open. It couldn't be true. Ginny hadn't even thought about Harry romantically since before fifth year, at least that was what Hermione had said, and it wasn't like Ginny had done much to dispel the thought.

Harry sighed, wondering if he'd known sooner would things have turned out differently. If truth be told, when he'd found out Dean and Ginny were dating, he'd been more than a little jealous, but that had been years ago. Did Harry still like her?

She was beautiful, that was for sure. Harry had always thought so, but he knew there was more to love than looks. However, she was also smart, caring, funny, and…Harry stopped himself. Of course he liked Ginny. He'd be a fool not to.

Harry let his head fall back. "Only I could stare at someone for almost ten years and not realize I love her," he thought angrily.

Now there was only one thing left to do. He'd have to decide if going back would be the best thing for him. If he was honest with himself, being in the middle of one of the biggest cities on Earth wasn't all it was cracked up to be, despite the lies he told himself. However, going back would be admitting he'd been wrong, and being wrong was something he'd always hated.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. He sounded so childish and selfish. There was nothing for it; he'd have to go back. Even as he made his decision, something started nagging at the back of his mind. Although Ginny had said she'd loved him, what was to say she hadn't moved on? He had been a complete git to her, and here he was assuming she'd automatically forgive him.

Harry sighed and put his hands over his face. He came out of his reverie what felt like hours later to a warm summer's breeze playing across his face. He looked out the open window at the busy street below.

In one fluid motion Harry was on his feet. He never left the windows open. He snapped it closed and then whirled around, looking at his empty apartment. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that no one had crept in. Maybe the wind had done it.

Unceremoniously, Harry collapsed back down on the couch, shielding his eyes from the lamp above him. He had almost made up his mind to stay in New York when he heard something that sounded like the rustling of cloth. He sat bolt upright and gazed frantically around.

No one.

He lay back down slowly and was a bit more uneasy about closing his eyes. As soon as they were shut again, the rustling started. Harry pretended not to hear it getting closer. Finally, it sounded as if something was standing right next to him. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The noise stopped and no one was there.

He pushed himself up. Still nothing. Then something caught his eye. Something snowy white.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed, reaching down to pet her. "Why do you keep coming back? I let you go!"

She hooted proudly and stuck out her leg where a letter was neatly tied.

"Alright, you delivered you're letter, go on then," Harry said, shooing her away. She gazed back with her amber eyes and then took off to perch on the arm of the couch. Harry shook his head at her and turned back to his letter. It was quite short and hastily written.

Harry,

I'm not going to try to convince you to come back home anymore. You've pretty much made yourself clear on that subject. The real reason for this is to tell you that Dad's sick. We don't know what's wrong with him at the moment, but we should know soon. Whatever it is it's not looking good for him. He wants to see you again though. I'm not saying you have to come but…yeah.

Ginny

Guilt was always an ugly feeling.


"So do you think Harry will come?" Hermione asked over the top of her book.

Ginny looked at her a moment before answering. "No, I don't think he will," she said. The she continued her balancing act on the railing around her porch.

"Do you really think he's that heartless?"

Clearly Hermione was missing the hint about wanting to drop the subject.

"Yes, Hermione, I do believe he is that heartless. If you could have heard what he said that day he left, this wouldn't be such a surprise to you," she snapped, stretching her leg out in front of her.

Hermione stared at her reproachfully for a moment but said nothing. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her and she burst out, "But you still like him?"

Ginny wobbled unsteadily for a moment before regaining her balance and turning to glare at her friend. Her look softened eventually and she sighed, "Yes. He may be a git, but he'll always be my git."

Hermione beamed at her and then frowned. "Get down before you hurt yourself, please!"

"Mione, I'm fine. I used to do this all the time."

"Yeah, when you were, what, five?"

Ginny turned to face her, her hands on her hips.

"It's time to go inside anyway," said Hermione, closing her book.

"No, I'm not going back in. I can't stand it anymore."

Hermione shook her head but opened her book again. "Then I'll just stay out her with—." She stopped mid-sentence and her eyes got wide.


Harry came creeping through the front yard as Ginny turned her back to him.

"It's time to go inside anyway," he heard Hermione say.

They Ginny muttered something Harry couldn't quite hear.

Next moment, Hermione was staring right at Harry who put a finger to his lips. She seemed dumbfounded and quit talking before she finished her thought.

"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ginny laughed. Then a thought seemed to strike her and said suddenly serious, "You haven't, have you?"

Hermione regained her cool and cleared her throat. "No, no ghosts."

"Ok," Ginny said as if she feared for her friend's sanity. She turned back around to continue her routine, caught sight of Harry and started to tip dangerously. She tried to find her balance again but failed and all once tumbled off the railing. She closed her eyes, fully expecting to land hard on the ground. However, when she opened her eyes again, she was staring up into a pair of brilliant green orbs. Ginny looked around a moment and found herself in Harry's arms.

"Hello," he said in surprise.

Quickly she scrambled out of his grasp. Then for the second time in her life, she slapped Harry hard on the face.

"That's for leaving," she spat.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up.

Harry just silently put a hand to his cheek. "Ow," he said after a moment.

"You deserved it!"

Harry sighed. "You're right."

"Don't argue with me…what?"

"You're right. I was horrible to you. To everyone. I came to apologize."

Ginny turned to Hermione as if to ask "what do I do now?" but Hermione just politely snuck inside. Ginny turned back to Harry. "Well, I can't say I was expecting this."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry."

Ginny looked at him as if considering what to say. Suddenly, she'd thrown her arms around his neck and was kissing him. They stayed that way for a moment before Ginny pulled back.

"I can't say I was expecting this," Harry mocked her, though he was actually pleasantly surprised. "Well, that clears that up at least."

"Clears what up?"

"I wanted to know how I felt about something," he said casually, resting his forehead against hers.

"And…?" she pressed.

"And what?" he asked.

"How do you feel about whatever it is you're talking about?" she asked, taking both his hands in hers and interlocking the fingers.

Harry kissed her forehead and moved down to her lips again. "Yeah, I still like it," he breathed.

"Ginny, get in here quick. Dad wants to see you," Ron called from inside the house.

She dashed up the steps and turned to look back at Harry. "You should come in too," she said. "Dad's been getting worse for days and he wants to talk with you."

Harry followed her inside with an uneasy feeling. He wasn't quite sure what to expect. Whatever he'd been waiting for, it wasn't this.

Mrs. Weasley sat on the living room couch, watching with puffy eyes as a Healer descended from the upstairs, Bill sat next to his mother, one arm around her, Charlie paced before the fireplace, Percy stood off in a corner, staring at the ground, and Ron sat in a squishy armchair near the fire with his forehead in his hands while Hermione rubbed his back soothingly.

"Harry, dear, it's so good to have you back," Mrs. Weasley said thickly as she stood to embrace him. He hugged her tight and she continued, "Why don't you sit with us while Ginny runs up to talk to her father."

"I want him to come," Ginny said stiffly. "Besides, Dad wants to talk to him."

"That's fine, sweetheart. Just wait a moment. I want you to hear what Healer Morgan has to say."

"Well," the Healer began, "I've never seen anything like this before." He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and continued. "You say your husband suffered from a snake bite some years back, correct?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "But that was nearly five years ago. What has that got to do with Arthur now?"

"It seems there was still a bit of lingering poison. His last cold or illness seems to have brought the remaining toxin to the surface, so to speak."

"Can he recover?" Percy asked from the shadows.

"I'm afraid not," said the Healer, his eyes full of pity. "There's no way to extract the poison since it's mixed in with his bloodstream. He may not last the night." Healer Morgan sighed. "I've done all I can do for him. I'm sorry." Then he gathered up his bag and Disapparated with a crack.

The reaction to the news was worse than expected. Mrs. Weasley stood and quickly strode from the room to some other region of the house and Percy just left all together. Harry saw Ron look up, his eyes full of tears, at Hermione, who could only cry with him. Most surprising of all was Ginny. She'd said almost nothing since they'd stepped inside and at the news that her father would probably die before morning she still remained silent. She wasn't crying, in fact, she hardly looked as if she was breathing at all. She only mounted the stairs to her father's room, Harry close behind her.

At the door, Ginny knocked, then led the way in. "Daddy, Ron said you wanted to see me."

"Ginny! Come here, baby girl," he said, beckoning her over.

Whatever Harry had been expecting from the dying man, it wasn't this, that was certain. He seemed so energetic and happy. There was no way…

"And you brought Harry too!" he exclaimed jovially.

Turning back to Ginny he said, "I heard what Healer Morgan said. Those Extendable Ears are really useful," he joked. "Speaking of Fred and George, are they here yet?"

"No, Daddy, but they're trying their hardest. How are you feeling?"

"Worse if truth be told. I guess the Healer's right."

"Don't say that."

"And why not? It's the truth, and I'm not going to sit here and lie to myself about it. I know he's right. I can barely move anymore, so death is just something I'm going to have to accept."

He sat silent for a moment before turning his attention to Harry. "Now, I know things have been difficult for you lately, but I also happen to believe that you're here to stay now. Am I correct?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like to come back here, if there's no problem with it."

"No problem, of course. Well, seeing as you're here to stay, I want you to watch after Ginny for me. I know she loves you still, and I know you love her too, so—."

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but how do you know these things?" Harry asked slightly dumbfounded.

"A father has eyes everywhere, my boy," he said wisely. After a pause he laughed and said, "No, I actually saw you two in the front yard earlier.

"What I'm trying to get at is that I want you to take care of her. I know she's a grown woman and all that but I'll rest easy knowing you're with my baby girl and she's not out chasing some young hoodlum."

Harry laughed. "Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem."

"Right, well, I need to talk to Ginny alone, if you don't mind. It won't take long if you just want to wait in the hall—Ow!" he shouted as he grabbed at his stomach.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Ginny asked, kneeling beside him.

"Yes, yes. The hall, Harry. And I'm glad you came back in time."

"Me too, Mr. Weasley. Good-bye."

Harry was still standing in the hall twenty minutes later when Ginny came out.

"How is he?" Harry asked.

Ginny only shook her head.

"Is he gone already?"

Ginny nodded this time, staring at the floor. When she next looked at Harry, she was finally crying.

"Oh, no," he said, drawing in a shaky breath and raking a hand through his hair. He opened his arms and enveloped Ginny tightly. He felt her hands clench over two handfuls of his shirt as hot tears soaked his shoulder.

He tried to say something comforting as he stroked her hair, but the words just wouldn't come out. Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. They were still like that when Mrs. Weasley came to check on them ten minutes later.

"He isn't…Arthur isn't…?" she asked in a panicky voice. Ginny didn't answer so Harry nodded solemnly.

She rushed in to his room. At first, she said nothing but after a moment, she shrieked and the whole house came running. Ginny sobbed louder as footsteps pounded up the stairs.


I know. A rather morbid ending.

Well, when I started writing this story it was really just supposed to be a romance, cuz that's what I like to write. I never intended on killing Mr. Weasley but things just kept happening. If you'll excuse me, I'm gunna go cry now. Bye-bye Mr. Weasley. Tear