A short story following Ginny while Harry leaves to defeat Voldemort.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters, they all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
I had waited. For years no news. And yet I waited. They told me it was hopeless, that he would never return, that he had gone to his death. I never believed them.
I remember the night before he left. His rough hands on my face, his soft breath on my neck. The feel of his hair as I ran it between my fingers. The whispered words promising the world. That night, the last real memory I have of him.
In the morning it was a simple kiss. But a kiss that represented all we had meant to each other. And what he still means to me, as I believe he still lives.
And I waited . . .
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Warn skin upon warm skin. Loving words of love. Strong arms holding me tight, protecting me from what was to come.
Companionship. Love. Passion.
Whispered names, punctuated with sharp intakes of breath. Sof caresses worth a thousand words. The magic between us.
Memories. How they formed my life.
And yet I waited . . .
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He was alive!
A summonings. A plea for help. I couldn't delay. I had to help him. I waited no longer.
Instant spparation to a place beyond immagination. Magic verses magic. Mortal verses mortal. Good verses evil.
The battle of all time.
As I watched . . .
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Finally defeat. I watched as he gained advantage over his mortal enemy. Slow, agonising defeat.
Finally death. Good had triumphed at last.
And I ran to his side. My hands cradling his injured body.
At last he spoke.
'I have killed him. We are free at last. But I am too broken. I cannot continur. I have seen to much.'
I stared at him . . .
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Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water measuring out the agonising moments. He grew weaker, his breath lessened. His voice, near silent, called out to me.
'Ginny. Please.'
He needed my help. Not to continue life, but to end it. I braced myself, raising my wand, uttering those fatal words.
And then I cried . . .
Thanks to my boyfriend vampire phoenix for beta reading for me.