Remembering You

By Tidal Waves

xoxox

Dear Harry,

I'll probably never give you this letter and there are a few reasons for that. Reason One: it is extremely likely that this letter will be rather stupid by the time that I'm finished with it. Reason Two: you will miraculously show up before I send the letter, negating any purpose for my sending of it. Reason Three: well, let's not go there. Crap, I'm going to start crying again. Hold on while I go and run around the house a few times.

I'm back and I feel so much better now. Anyway, back to what I was going to say.

Do you remember when we first met? That day on the platform then you had no idea where to go? I had the hugest ever crush on you then, but it was on the part of you that was famous. On Harry Potter and his scar, not Harry, the boy with no parents. Yes, I had a crush on you and your celebrity status. I don't think that I started to like the real you until I was in my second year.

I know what you're thinking. "But wait! What about when you tried to tell me about being possessed in your first year! Surely you liked me then!"

Well, you are wrong. That was me crushing on the incredibly-famous-and-therefore-incredibly-brave Harry Potter. You weren't just plain Harry until I was thirteen, and that was only because I had discovered that you had a brain and were a decent person. Even then I think I retained a bit of my hero-worshipping persona, but it had gone away a bit.

But I'm getting off track. Now, you must be thinking, "What track? There is no track in this letter!"

There you are wrong, my boy, very wrong. There is a track to this letter, but it is very subtle, and your snitch-catching brain simply can't see it. You don't believe me? I'm hurt Harry, very hurt. I guess I'm just going to have to prove it to you. Operation Prove There is a Track to Harry (OPTTH) is beginning now.

Okay. I lied. There is no track. But be nice, and don't make fun of me too badly all right?

D'you remember the Yule Ball? D'you remember how you and Ron left the task of finding dates too late, and then when you finally asked Cho if she would go with you, she was already going with Cedric? And then, out of desperation I think, you asked your best friend's kid sister if she would go with you.

How I hated to turn you down, but it had to be done. As much as I wanted to ditch Neville and walk into the Great Hall on your arm, I couldn't. I think that if I was still half in love with the famous side of you, I wouldn't have said no.

It all turned out all right in the end though. You got a date, and I had fun with Neville. The whole event showed me that there was life without you; I didn't need to be with you to have fun. That day helped me to move on a bit, and to tell myself that I was over you.

Do you remember Michael Corner? He was my boyfriend in fourth year. I liked him well enough, I guess, but he was nothing particularly special. He was handsome enough, that was for sure, and it was nice that he absolutely adored me and would do most anything that I said. He also helped me to forget about you a little, because entirely forgetting you was utterly impossible.

Once in a while I would have a dream about you, and of being your girlfriend, or what it would be like to kiss you, but whenever that would happen I would go find Michael and he would help me forget about it for a little while. Not that I ever told him what I had been dreaming about, because I doubt that he would have been too happy about it.

D'you remember the DA? Do you remember that first gathering at the Hog's Head, where you were so afraid to speak for fear of rejection? I almost didn't come that day. I knew that Voldemort would get mentioned at some point, and even three years after he possessed me, I didn't think I could handle it. I didn't think that I could listen to you talk about him.

But in the end, I decided to go, dragging Michael along behind me for moral support. During the meeting you were so caught up in staring at Cho, avoiding looking at Cho, or talking to Hermione to notice that my eyes never left your face for the entire meeting. Well, except for when Michael asked me what I was staring at. And when Fred and George were about to stab Michael with that thing they had purchased at Zonko's.

So the DA got started. I lived for those furtive meetings in the Room of Requirement, where you would teach us all of the things that you thought were important. I learned so much in that short year. You were a good teacher when you lost your modesty and just taught.

Do you remember that night at the Ministry? Well of course you do. I don't know why I'm even asking. That night was really important to me, but yet so utterly tragic at the same time. I didn't have to go with you to Department of Mysteries but I did, not because I was utterly in love with you and couldn't bare to be apart from you, but because over that year I had become your friend and I wanted to stand beside you like one. I was so afraid but somehow your presence made it a little bit better. I'm not going to go into anymore details because I'm quite sure that you remember that night much more clearly than I do. Just know that I remember it. I remember.

Remember when we kissed for the first time? It was right after that Quidditch game that I had won in your place because Snape had put you in detention. You came into the Common Room looking so utterly downtrodden, but yet so incredibly sexy at the same time. At once I knew what I had to do. I ran straight across the room and into your arms and you suddenly pressed your lips to mine in one of the best kisses of my entire life. Surprisingly, Ron didn't run over and kill you, and we happily wandered down to the lake and kissed for ages underneath an old and gnarly tree.

Those were the happiest months of my life, that short while we were together. However, good things rarely last forever and our relationship came to grinding halt. The impossible happened. Dumbledore died, murdered right in front of you by Snape, and after his funeral you called things off between us.

I can't say that I wasn't half expecting you to do something like that. I knew deep inside that you would eventually have to go off and fight Voldemort, because that's just the kind of person you are. You're so noble and selfless although I think that breaking up with me was a bit selfish on your part. You didn't want to see me hurt because someone was trying to hurt you. Sure, that makes a bit of sense, but it hurt me so badly. I think I went and cried for half a day, overwhelmed by Dumbledore's death and the fact that you were finally going off to fight Voldemort, without me.

D'you remember that night before you, Ron, and Hermione were to leave to go to Godric's Hollow? We went for a walk in the garden and you told me that you loved me. You said that you needed to tell me that before you went off to fight Lord Moldyshorts, because you didn't want to die without every saying it. I told you that I loved you too, and you smiled a happy smile. You were gone before I woke up the next morning.

That was six months ago and I haven't seen you since. Every day we hear word of people getting killed and I am always terrified that I'll hear your name, or Ron's name, or Hermione's name on the list of the day's casualties. It scares me that I don't know where you are or if you are safe.

Because school is no longer and option for me, I've opened a defence school and I'm teaching people how to look out for themselves, and how to defend themselves incase they are ever attacked. I like to think that I'm doing half as good a job as you did with the DA. At least it feels like I'm doing something for the war effort as opposed to sitting on my behind all day long. I hope that you might be able to feel proud of what I'm doing.

So, my dearest Harry, saviour of the Wizarding World, if you ever get this letter, I want you to know that my childhood fantasy of one day becoming Mrs. Harry James Potter and having loads of messy haired children has not gone anywhere. It may have evolved slightly, but it's still there. I still want that with all of my heart and I hope you want that too.

Wherever you are, I hope you get this, and I hope that you find your way back to me, because I love you, and I miss you.

Always,

Ginny

xoxox

The black haired man by the name of Harry Potter looked up from the tattered roll of parchment in his hands. After a year and a half of hard fighting, he had finally returned to his home in Godric's Hollow. Voldemort was dead. He had killed him only two weeks before, after destroying all of the Horcruxes. He still had some unfinished business though, he thought as he glanced down at the letter he was holding. He had received it almost a year ago and had kept it with him ever since. He had carried it into the final battle, tucked into the inner pocket of his robes, right over his heart.

The eighteen year old glanced at his watch and sighed. Ron and Hermione were probably still "occupied." They had been going at it like rabbits ever since the final battle, when Ron had proposed. Sure, they were an awesome couple, and his best friends to boot, but Harry could only take so much of their constant kissing and groping. He checked his watch again and then made up his mind. He grabbed his wand and apparated to the Burrow.

xoxox

Ginny Weasley sat at her desk in the bedroom at the Burrow. She was planning her next day's lessons at the defence school that she was running. She had just started working on the outline for her next class when the door of her small room slammed open. Her ever present wand was pointed at the intruder before she even had a chance to look at who it was. She followed the length of wood and found that it was pointing into a very familiar pair of green eyes.

"Harry," she said weakly. "You're back."

He strode towards her and pulled her tightly to him. He held her close for a long moment, drinking in her appearance, before loosening his grip on her slightly, his arms still around her waist.

"How . . . Why are you here? Where are Ron and Hermione? What about Voldemort?" she asked in a rush after her brain caught up to the fact that Harry was there, in her arms.

Harry laughed. It had been so long since Ginny had heard that sound. "Okay. Answers to all of your questions in reverse order coming right up. One. Voldemort is dead as of about two weeks ago. The ministry is just keeping it quiet because they are still trying to round up all of the Death Eaters. Two. Ron and Hermione are currently busy. I can't really say any more than that because they just might kill me. And to why I'm here . . . " Harry stopped and pulled out a tattered letter. It was the same one that he had been reading earlier. Ginny gasped.

"You– You got it? I didn't think it would ever reach you! I only sent it because I thought you would never read it! You must think I'm an absolute–" Harry covered her mouth with his, effectively silencing her. When he broke apart from her, he pointed to a part of the letter that had particularly intrigued him.

"So, Miss Weasley, where it says here that you want to become Mrs. Harry James Potter and have lots of messy haired kids . . . Is that true?"

A furiously blushing Ginny choked out a quiet, "Yes."

Harry smiled. He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment before getting down on one knee. "So how 'bout we get started?" he said while pulling out a ring.

Ginny gaped at him for a moment before crying, "Yes! Yes!" She hauled him to his feet and began kissing him for all he was worth. Before she completely lost the ability to think, she wondered if that letter she had written did have a point to it after all.