Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

Fairytale

Once there was blue sky and green grass. Once there was life.

Once there was happiness. Once there was faith. Once there was love.

Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess…once upon a time…with no happily ever after. Once upon a time there was laughter…once upon a time. Once upon a time she wished upon a star. She wished a wish that was never granted; she wished to be like the princesses in the fairytale. She wished that her story would end with her very own happily ever after, she wished that dark times were only her once upon a time, a time that was long gone. But her hero never returned to her like he always did in the books.

Ginny never cried for Harry. She saw him win, she saw him fall, yet it was so unreal. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Either he was supposed to win, and Voldemort die, or the Dark Lord would take over and Harry Potter would no longer be the Boy Who Lived. He killed Voldemort, defeated him once and for all…so why was he no longer with her? Why had he been killed too? Love always conquers hate…in the fairytales. The good side always wins…in the fairytales.

But she had learned a crucial lesson- life is not a fairytale. And as much as she wished it weren't so, she found herself realizing more and more each day that that was the truth. For each and every day Ginny Weasley waited for Harry to return to her side. And each and every day she was disappointed. She sat in a chair in front of the fire cupping a mug of hot cocoa in her hands staring into the dying embers. And every time she saw a shadow stir behind her she jumped and looking around waiting to see his face, hear his voice. And each time she realized that it wasn't him, she was buried deeper into her pit of sadness, of anticipation, feelings that would never, could never, go away.

He was gone, but she was the last one left to accept it. Everyone had moved on with their lives, why not her? Why couldn't she forget the man she loved? Why wouldn't she realize that no matter how much she wished for it, he would not come back to her? Because she still believed in fairytales…

Because her true love was not dead, merely battling another monster. Because she wasn't destined for misery, happiness would come. Because that star that she wished on every night was going to pull through any day now, finally fulfilling her wish. Because her life was just a fairytale, seeing difficult times but soon to be rescued by the love of her life at the last moment when all hope was lost.

They all tried to save her, her friends, her family, they all tried. But she would let no one save her but him. The only one that no longer could. And so she waited…and waited. And the truth sunk in, deep, drifting, sinking into her very bones. And she ignored it more forcefully than ever before. She didn't shed a tear for the man she loved, because crying would make it real. And every day her confusion deepened. Fairytales weren't reality…and yet her reality was a fairytale…wasn't it?

And her skin paled and turned slowly yellow. She hadn't been outside in years, the only sunlight she had seen was the rays of light that taunted her through the window. The door remained unlocked in hope of her knight in shining armor riding up on his valiant steed, proclaiming his undying love, and whisking her away to his castle.

And she slowly thinned, although she ate regular meals, she was slipping away into nothingness. Although she tried to hold on, she was losing her grip and losing her mind. For her true love had abandoned her. And her fairytale was drifting farther and farther away as she struggled to hold on.

And as she read her story books over and over again, she threw them, one by one, into the flames. Her stories had betrayed her. They had led her to believe that she could be a princess, that she deserved to have happiness. All she deserved was to live this life in misery as she had for over 50 years.

And she sat in her chair by the fire and watched her beloved stories burn. She felt a twisted, sick, feeling of bitter happiness because she knew that, finally, they were feeling her pain. Those princesses got their happy ending. But what was left for her? The feeling of a huge let down as she stared in the mirror, watching her very soul wither away.

And the truth hurt. Were there no such things as fairytales? Was her whole life leading up to death? And what would come with death? Hell? Could she take any more torture? Heaven? Did she want to be happy? She couldn't be happy without Harry. But she couldn't keep hoping for him to come back. He was…dead. He had died long ago. And the truth hurt. And her tears flowed. Her fairytales burned in the flames as she dropped all hope of her fairytale ever coming true. And she let herself go, late in the night, drifting into a deep sleep, never to awake again.

And she saw his face, still 20 years old, and, looking into the mirror, realized that she, too, was young again. And he swept her into his arms and whispered 'I love you' in her ear. And, as she said it back, she knew…

In death, her fairytale had come true. She was a beautiful princess and her prince had rescued her just as all hope was lost.

Fin