A/N: Decided after a bit of skulking to register to the DarkLordPotter fora, and in honour of their rabid hatred of the character, I decided to Kill Off Ginny. For various reasons I've decided to roll back the timeline by five years so everything is five years earlier than in canon.
1995, North York Moors, Yorkshire, England.
Ginny knew this day was HER day, the day to outshine all her brothers, to become something greater. Of all the people that Harry could have contacted, it was her. She drew from her petite handbag the letter, sniffing deeply at it. Thick vellum, written on with long, elegant strokes were the words, soft and sensual, that drew her to this place.
Shivering a little as the cold mist parted, showing her the way up the lane, Ginny momentarily cursed her high heels as she stumbled on the rough surface. The cold wind biting at her bare legs and shoulders, and the impractical shoes were necessary for her plans. Harry had been missing since the end of her second year, having vanished with Sirius Black in 1989.
Dumbledore's trackers had lost them in Romania as they vanished amidst some great revolution, but now Harry was back. She, Ginny Weasley, had done what the best of Dumbledore's men had failed to do, to draw the Boy-Who-Lived back to Britain, and she was feeling in need of a reward. Harry was to be that reward.
Stumbling up the path, she wondered when Harry had become such a romantic, as from the mist the great arches, pillars and vaults of Rivaulx Abbey opened up before her. It was an atmospheric place, especially wreathed in moorland mist, and meeting here with her prize as the sun rose was just... so...
It took a while to find Harry, sat on a low, ruined wall. Ginny shuddered as he glanced over at her, long fingers wrapped around a goblet, his long dark-blue coat, almost half-cape, was picked up by the low breeze, swirling about him.
"Ginny, it's been a few years." he commented, a curious accent to his low, dry baritone.
'Squeeee!'
"Harry! I'm so glad you're back! Just wait until Dumbledore and mum and-" Ginny began, only to be cut off by a raised hand.
"I have no intention of anyone knowing I'm in Britain. Secrecy is a better defence that any shield spell." Harry informed her levelly.
"Ooh, you're playing secret agent." swooned Ginny as she walked towards him, swaying her hips. She'd read a few of her mother's trashy romance novels and knew exactly how this one ended.
As Ginny turned away from him to sit down on the stone wall next to him, a brief flash of something crossed Harry's face before it returned to stony neutral.
"Something like that." Harry responded.
"Then perhaps..." Ginny said breathily, leaning against him; "I can be your partner."
"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Take on the dark wizards in secret, and then afterwards..."
Harry sighed, he'd had enough.
"To be truly honest Ginny, I don't need you as a partner." Harry said coldly as he stood up; "All I need are your memories and your face. Natasha?"
Suddenly there was a crack and the hiss of displaced air, and a sudden ache, then everything below her chest went cold. Ginny slowly slid over onto the wall, her gaze slid, unbelieving, from the blood suddenly pooling on her front around the frayed hole in the front of her dress.
"Harry? I can't feel anything..." Ginny gasped, then saw the expressionless look on Harry's face as he looked at her. "What? Why? I loved you..."
"You didn't really. An infatuation." Harry shrugged, moving to stand over her; "The what is that my partner, Natasha Romanova shot you through the lower spine. It shouldn't be too painful, as the nerve centre for that area has been pulped and the bullet exited cleanly through your front having severed the spinal cord."
He turned away for a moment as he covered his face from the wind, lifting a lighter up to a cigar he'd just drawn from a pocket. A sound of metal on metal, then a brief flare of flame before he drew it away, the end of the cigar glowing red.
"As for why... It's nothing personal, I assure you, I merely need your face and for that, your memories. I'm afraid with someone else running around with your face, you'd just be a liability." he sighed slightly; "And, well, to extract enough memories to allow your impersonator to be convincing, I need to perform a ritual on consecrated ground which requires the removal of your brain, hence why she didn't shoot you through the head."
Ginny's vision was fading, just allowing her to see a stunning redhead wearing tight jeans and a black hoodie coming up behind Harry, wrapping her left arm around him and resting her chin on his shoulder, while the other arm carried a long, black tube with lots of protuberances.
"To quote Harry's esteemed headmaster, your death is for the 'Greater Good', or at least ours." the redhead gave her a ghastly grin from over his shoulder; "I'm afraid that the wound I inflicted is quite fatal. You can't feel it due to the severing of your nervous system above the lumbar nerve and a downward-angled bullet wound, but you're haemorrhaging blood in massive quantities internally from the traumatic rupture of your digestive system. Goodnight Ginny."
Post Mortem A/N: I don't particularly understand Hate!Ginny!Hate. JKR's failure to develop the character is what condemns her, merely that in Book 1 & 2, she is a fan with a crush. In two years after that, she is merely a peripheral character with limited script-time, briefly appears fighting in the Department of Mysteries, then BAM! Girlfriend. The badly executed crush!Harry was indeed badly executed. I advise all those infected with chest monsters to undergo an asthma check, or if persistent pain around the centre of the chest, possible heartburn.
Harry just had Ginny killed out of cold professionalism. She's in the way, and more of an asset dead than she is alive. I don't hate her, merely decided this was the most convincing scenario.