A/n: Hey sorry for the long wait! Thanks to all the reviews though. And CharliesMommy if you've seen The Butterfly Effect, it would probably freak you out a lot more than this wannabe.
Problems
"Why Ginny? WHY?" A woman shrieked. Her cheeks were soaked in tears. Water was dripping down her neck. Another woman was beside her, crying just as much. They held onto each other for comfort.
Harry couldn't bear to watch. There were only five women surrounding the beautifully gold-painted coffin. They threw bouquets of flowers on it and watched it slowly go down into a deep, dark hole. Harry shook as he watched the women slowly walk away. Eventually they all drove off and the area was deserted. A cool breeze dried his tears, for he did not care to wipe them. He held a small photograph in his hand, clutching it tightly. He approached the hole with caution, feeling ashamed for some reason.
He looked down on the coffin, then at the photograph. Droplets of water fell on the tattered picture. He kneeled to the ground and wept. It was finally hitting him. And it hit him so hard he felt his body being stretched and twisted like a pretzel. What he couldn't understand was where was her family? Where were her friends? He sent them an owl (its name was Hammy) the day it had happened, but he received no reply a week later. He bought the coffin, land, and paid for all the expenses but he decided to remain anonymous. Ginny's friends had no clue as to who had provided the elegant coffin and the dozens of flowers at the wake and funeral. During the week, it was the same five women who came to the wake. They had wanted to bury her earlier, but the funeral home told them that an anonymous gentleman had paid for a week's stay.
Why did nobody else come to visit? And who was this Derrick person that Ginny mentioned? He wanted to ask her friends, but he couldn't. A strange force was preventing him from doing so. He felt that he had to answer questions from the past before dealing with the ones in the present.
He rose from the moist ground and brushed his shaggy black hair back. He took out a wrinkled piece of yellow paper from his pockets and cleared his throat.
"Ginny, I wrote this for you along time ago, back when we were much younger. I wanted to show it to you when I would ask to marry you. I – It's too bad it didn't turn out that way," He cleared his throat.
I can't promise you a wealthy living
I can't promise you fancy brooms
I can't promise you a mansion
I can't promise you the sun or moon
I can't promise you an easy life
Where no trials come our way
I can't promise a life without suffering or sadness
I can't promise that we will never feel pain
I'm not a perfect person
And I know I'll make mistakes
But if you give me the chance
I'll do whatever it takes
I can't promise you a lot of things
But I can assure you that I
Will love you, care for you and remain faithful
Will protect you and never leave you even when I die
The last thing I would want
Is to break this promise to you, you see
And now I kneel before you and ask,
"Will you marry me, Ginny?"
As he cried the last line, he felt a strong sensation in his chest. What hurt him the most was the fact that maybe he could have prevented this. There were so many 'could have done's that he did not do. He dropped the paper and it landed slowly on the coffin filled with colorful flowers.
------
"Oh come on dear Harry Potter, you said you wanted to help. So help me by shooting the living shit out of me!"
Harry woke up with sweat dripping on his brow. He checked his wristwatch. 2:54 PM it read. Shit, he thought. He was supposed to go to Jenny's apartment at noontime. They had planned to spend their day together. He took a quick shower, combed his hair, put on a black shirt and jeans and floo-powdered to the closest street to Sam's Diner. From there, he had to take the bus to get to Jenny's. When he finally arrived, it was already 3:40.
"Where were you? You're only about four hours late," Jenny greeted him. Harry entered her cozy apartment and took off his shoes.
"Look I'm really sorry, I had trouble sleeping last night," Harry explained.
Jenny pursed her lips. "You always have an excuse. I'm so sick of it!"
Harry remained silent. He sat on the couch and picked up a newspaper.
"I mean ever since that incident with that girl! I mean I know she was your friend from school, but you never really told me about her," Jenny blabbed on. "I'm sure the two of you were more than friends. And what was wrong with her? I mean was she a psychopath? Why would she just randomly shoot herself? We lost a lot of business ever since – "
"Can we not talk about her?" Harry said in an annoyed tone.
Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Well when are we going to Harry? I really want to know about her. Does she have any family members? I just want to know who she is!"
"Just let it go will you?" Harry snapped. "I've been having dreams about her for so long, and they've just gotten worse. And I know just as much as you do about her history."
"You dream about her?" Jenny gasped.
Harry was not in the mood. Why does she insist on pushing the subject when she knew that it bothered him so much? "Leave it alone Jen,"
"No, I will not!" Jenny looked at him intently. She reached for his hand and held them tightly. "Something about you has changed. You've been so secretive and depressed. I just want to help you. Talking about it will definitely help you go through this. I know you."
Harry stood up. "You think you know me? I don't even know me!" He said in a loud voice. Jenny was surprised.
Jenny closed her eyes and said in an almost-whisper, "Harry, maybe you should just leave."
Harry wanted to say something, but he knew it would be pointless. He nodded, put his shoes on and left.
A/n: yeah the poem's really cheesy, but whatever.