The stench of blood lies thick in the air, the stench of death and of war. The ground is wet with the blood of all. Of muggleborns, of half bloods and purebloods, it doesn't matter where it came from, in the end they lye intermingled on the battlefield. Bodies litter the floor, from both sides. There was no real victory, both sides lost their leader. Nobody knows what really happened, and those who do don't want to tell. But I know what happened, I remember every minute of it. I can still see their blood; I can still hear their screams. I want to tell people what happened, but I know I won't get a chance. I lie forgotten next to the lake, once a deep majestic blue that was a place of happiness and love. The blue is now replaced with a blood red, and I wonder if it's blood or just water. I'll never find out now. I know I'm close to death, I can feel its gentle pull getting stronger by the second. Pain fills my body as I roll over to face the sky. Black clouds block out the sun and rain pours down, washing away the dirt and the blood. Washing away the pain and loss, making a new path for the survivors and letting them move on. But I cannot move on with them, I must leave them, this is not my place, not my world. My job here is done. I'll see them all again soon, all my friends, my family. A smile lights my face as I fall back into the light.
Ginevra Molly Weasley was found dead after the final battle on the 7th August 2003 by Neville Longbottom next to the lake. All Neville would say was that she was smiling, and that he was happy that she was back with the ones that she loves, even if he will miss her, but everyone has to move on eventually.