Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling

Summary: These are basically a few missing moments from Half-Blood Prince. The reason I am doing this is because I am incredibly dissatisfied with most of the ones milling about there, featuring a completely obsessed Ginny. If anyone read the now famous interview J.K. shared with Mugglenet creator Emerson and Leaky Cauldron founder Melissa, they would have realized that she basically said that Ginny had to get over Harry for him to notice her. I have decided to keep up that notion in my own ficlet.

This is Ginny Weasley's journal, but I am not dating it, because no one reads the dates anyways. The entry numbers are random, because I am not going to even try and pretend that I entered all of them, I just wanted to insert the ones that I felt showed a change in her relationship with Harry or events that are particularly important to each other.

Author's Note: I am so sorry about the delay in the story, especially as this is the most highly anticipated chapter. I was sick last week, and had a lot of work to catch up on. I am all better now though, and am ready to finish this story. I hope you can all forgive me, but I hope I made up for it with a satisfying ending.

Now, and for the final time, on with the story

Entry #196

Today started out as well as anyone could have expected. Every one was far too wrapped up in their own thoughts to worry about where I had spent the night. A week ago, if I had spent the entire night away from the dorm my roommates would have bombarded me with questions. "Where was I?" "Was I with Harry?" "Was he any good?" Now they barely even look at me. They don't really want to. It's not mean or anything, it's not exactly as if they are all staring at one another.

Harry met me in the common room where we walked down to the great hall. He was wearing his dress robes, and on any other occasion I would have been taken aback at how handsome he looked, at how much his eyes stood out when he was wearing them. Instead we just said, "Hi" before continuing on our walk. The castle was dark and gloomy. The portraits did not talk to one another; they all just stared sadly at us.

When we finally arrived in the great hall, we each slowly took our seats; no one made much fuss about where they sat or who they were with. Unlike any other breakfast there wasn't a fuss over who would get the last piece of bacon or whether transfiguration or defense against the dark arts was the hardest subject. I didn't really expect there to be any, but what you expect and what actually is can be two very different things.

No one seemed to be extraordinarily hungry, even Ron. This was good, not because I want my classmates to starve, but because I had a piece of sausage, and for the first time since I have ever been at Hogwarts, the food tasted poor. I suppose the house-elves didn't really concern themselves with cooking much.

This led me to thinking; what's going to happen to the house-elves? And everyone else for the matter. Dumbledore was the glue that held all of us together. I mean, it's amazing to think about how much work will have to be done now that he is gone. First of all, there's Hogwarts. If it remains open, then that's good for all of the creatures that reside within. The house-elves will all have a place to work, they will not need to go about and find other jobs. Every creature in the lake and forest can live peacefully, knowing that they are still under the protection of the school. Once the war ends, it will almost be as it was. I suspect that it will be easier for everyone to cope, once they know they can mourn without the ever present threat of murder. Dumbledore also held the Order together. Besides being founder, secret-keeper, and caretaker, he was also someone who gave us a fight to keep fighting. He would remind us of how vital it was to consistently keep striving to do what is right, even if it is not easy.

Then there are just the individual people that Dumbledore appeared to hold together. I have spoken many of times about Harry and how much Dumbledore meant to him. But he is by no means the only person. Hagrid looked up to Dumbledore so much, and probably would have led a terrible life without him. He would have been banned from society, for being a half-giant, an untrained wizard, and a possible murderer. These things were all prevented by Dumbledore.

We also lost all of the wisdom that Dumbledore had. He knew how to talk to people, how to calm them and make sure they were receptive to what they needed to hear. These skills cannot be taught by anything but life. We have lost all of that extreme power, we have lost all of that extreme grace. No one will be able to keep Voldemort out of Hogwarts now. I am sure he will not attack right away. That would be foolish. But the fact of the matter is, Voldemort will want to make Hogwarts his own, and he will come, maybe in one year, maybe two.

Thinking of all of this makes you remember just how much you want to help.

Finally, after what felt like years, we were to proceed to the lake where the funeral would take place. The walk down there was an experience. I could actually see the lake distancing itself from us, it was becoming farther and farther as we walked, probably because it did not want to bear all of the sadness that we brought.

The weather was perfect. The air was warm, but not too hot. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, and the grass was of the richest green. The lake looked cool and inviting, just as the shade underneath the birch tree taunted me of all the wonderful times I had spent beneath it. The weather was clearly teasing us, because Mother Nature has a terrible sense of humor that way.

When we finally managed to reach the lake, I saw that there were thousands of chairs all laying out, ever so neatly, as if the neatness of chairs would prevent our hearts from breaking. Right in the center sat a beautiful marble table. It was wonderfully carved, done by some of the finest artisans that McGonagall could find.

Instead of focusing on the whiteness of the marble, I finally decided it would be more appropriate if I would focus on the people instead. Most of the order was there. Snape of course was not, and for the longest time I could not seem to find Hagrid. Tonks and Lupin looked so happy that I couldn't help but allow a small smile. Her hair was back to pink, and it was so shocking and glaring that I wondered if poor Lupin had gone blind. They were holding hands, and I admired their ability to take small steps in the right direction.

I also knew a good portion of people from the ministry, predominantly through Dad. I was surprised to find that there were multiple unspeakables there; clearly everyone had called in sick. Scrimgeour was looking unpleasant and eyeing Harry greedily, like a piece of meat that he couldn't quite reach. I noticed dad's old partner Perkins, and a couple of people that I had only ever seen there. Of course, amongst Scrimgeour's entourage was Percy.

Percy was looking stiff and unhappy. Not just sad, but he looked as if he was trying to solve a riddle and no matter how hard he tried he could not complete the answer. There are a million possibilities of what was going through his head, and we can ever imagine. He stood out with his bright red Weasley hair, something that will tie him back to us no matter how much we all want the chain to be broken.

I saw Fred and George too. It must've been the first time I have seen them without a prank brewing in their minds. Even they had taken time off to see Dumbledore's funeral. They weren't even allowing themselves to think about work, when there was so much more going on at the moment. They looked hideous in their dragon hide jackets, and on any other day I would have reprimanded them for being cruel to animals as well as looking so sinfully hideous. But today all we did was give each other brief hugs, no teasing was passed.

Mum was sobbing and dad tried to calm her. He was holding her stroking; softly stroking her hair, which I actually found immensely funny later.

The last people were to take their seats before the funeral progressed. I watched them all sit down, doing things such as look over the crowd before they decided where they sat, stretch their legs a bit before giving the service their full attention. It was the small things that people were doing; scratching their noses, biting their lips, and wiggling their fingers that reminded me that life will go on. Dumbledore is dead, we are not. Finally as the last of the teachers were seated, it was time for the service to begin.

At first nothing appeared to be happening. I looked over the grounds and saw the morose crowd in front of me. I turned my eyes to the lake, which appeared to be rippling rather uncharacteristically. That's when I saw them emerge. First just one, then two, and before long dozens of merpeople had risen to the surface of the lake. I hadn't seen them for two years, not since the Triwizard tournament in my third year; I had all but forgotten them. They started to sing their strange and wonderful song. It was full of a harrowing sadness; clearly the loss of Dumbledore was felt, even at the bottom of the lake. I wonder how they knew though, seeing as how no one went down there to tell them. It is possible that they could just feel it, they could sense that a great power was loss, that there was a huge magical void in the air.

I noticed that people could not find the source of the singing, Harry included. "In there," I whispered into his ear. It was strange to think that we had said no more than two words at any one time at that point.

I watched them sing, and pondered at how meaningful it felt, just as wondrous as the Phoenix song, albeit different. They were so strange looking. Their greenish hair clung to their faces and they clearly liked to maintain a wild pretense, but it was amazing to think that creatures as different as humans and merpeople were mourning the same man.

That's when I finally spotted Hagrid. At first I was thrilled to see that he had finally made it to the funeral, but that was before I saw what he was carrying. In his arms was Dumbledore. Wrapped in a beautiful cloth of the richest purple, which was littered with gold stars, he seemed so noble and shocking that my breath caught in my chest. I knew I was crying, and I didn't care. What mattered was that the most powerful sorcerer ever known, so wonderful and wise, was dead.

The rest of the funeral was a blur. I didn't listen to what the old man said. Did her truly know Dumbledore? Did he know that he highly encouraged students to spend Saturday night snogging, not to mention make it easier for a couple of students to get away with it. Did this random guy know that Dumbledore was an excellent dancer? What did he really know? Maybe he was on of Dumbledore's students from the past. Maybe he was one of the countless faces that passed through Hogwarts' doors, which no one but Dumbledore would have paid much attention to. Maybe he remembered Dumbledore from back in the day. But maybe he didn't. Maybe other things to over his life, and he was forced to shove the happy memories of Dumbledore into the back of his mind. Maybe he forgot.

Creatures came to pay their respects to Dumbledore. The centaurs had come. They disliked humans in the forest, they didn't want us to come into their territory, yet they came to us, to say good-bye. The merpeople had come too. They watched the ceremony with wide eyes. Clearly, they had different traditions than us. Other creatures were rustling inside the forest. I couldn't see all of them, I think I may have seen a three headed dog though, but they were there. No matter who it was, everyone came to pay their respects to the man who meant so much.

Suddenly Dumbledore's body was on fire. It was beautiful and cruel all at once. It took me a minute to realize that it wasn't his body that was on fire, but the air around him. White flames so bright you could not directly look at them were circling him, gradually rising ever higher towards the sky above. Just as quickly as it had started, it had ended. Dumbledore's body was encased in a white tomb. Never to be looked upon again by the eyes of his friends and admirers.

The centaurs fired off their arrows, as I had suspected they might. I knew they would not have brought their bows without a good reason, and it made as much sense to me as anything that they would have paid their tribute in the best way that they knew how. The arrows fell far short of the crowd, but it didn't stop people from screaming. I watched with mild satisfaction as Umbridge waddled away as fast as her little legs would carry her. The toad deserves it.

I saw Hermione cry into Ron's shoulder, and Ron hold her just as dad had held mum. They were both crying freely, and I saw the way that they fit together. I always knew they were perfect for each other, I just didn't realize how perfect they were. It was like two pieces of a puzzle finally came together. They fit. It was wonderful and I almost laughed at how much like mum and dad they were. It's wonderful how these things play out.

Then I turned and looked at Harry. He was over looking at the merpeople, watching their heads disappear underneath the surface. I knew it then. It hit me hard and fast, and I could feel my stomach start to recoil. I watched him turn to me. We just looked at each other for what could have been days, but were more likely minutes. Time and space, as it seemed to do ever so often recently, lost all meaning. I would never say something like, "don't do it" or "be careful" to him. I wanted him to go as much as I wanted him to stay, he is Harry. And he would not, could not, be careful. His path was long and hard, the most anyone could really hope is that he would stay alive. I watched him prepare himself for what I knew he was about to do.

"Ginny, listen…" He started very softly, as if that would make it somehow easier. The people around us started to shift and move away, but I was in my own world, and only one other person had come along. "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

I replied softly too, hoping that maybe he wouldn't be able to hear anything but me. "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?"

"It's bee like… like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," he sighed. "But I can't… we can't… I've got things to do alone now."

I stared back at him. He would never be alone, maybe physically yes, but he would never truly be alone, not with me around.

He tried again. "Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" I responded. Because it is the truth.

He had prepared himself for this though. "I care. How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral… and it was my fault…"

I couldn't face him any longer. The eye contact was too much. His emerald eyes were searching me, trying to access my deepest feelings. He gaze was so intense, yet it was oddly simple, how he must've looked when he was an eleven year old boy deciding to go though a trap door.

"I never really gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped… Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more – myself."

"Smart girl, that Hermione," I could actually hear him trying to smile, knowing he would fail. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages… months… years maybe…"

Ha! I wouldn't have wanted it that way. "But you've been too busy saving the Wizarding world. Well… I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's what I like you so much."

He walked away. I knew that he thought he might try and take it all back. I let him walk away, turn his back on me. He needed to know he could turn away if he had to, but he also needs to know that he doesn't have to turn away now, not really. And I will tell him. But first he needs to know that he can, so if it comes to that, he knows.

I watched him throw off Rufus Scrimgeour yet again. Something about the way he treated the minister of magic was so incredible, he was forging his own path now. Harry has finally learned that he will need to start forging his own path, there will be no tracks for him to follow after this point.

I watched Ron and Hemione break apart and run after him. I was not jealous that they were there for him now while I was not. I wanted to share his time with them, because I knew that while they would not abandon him, tomorrow Harry is going to take a new role, something that they can't really understand.

They sat together under the beech tree, as Harry and I had done so many moons ago. Finally I turned my back on him, I was going to let them have their time together, they had earned at least that much.

Besides I knew what I would do. What challenges I was going to have to overcome. I knew it would be okay though.

After all; Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world.

Fin