A/N: This is a Ginny POV, which is my favorite if you haven't noticed, about what she would be going through if the entire trio died after defeating Voldemort. I want twenty stories by Friday, but I only have three more planned, so suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Please, please review!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I just play around in JKR's world. It all belongs to her. If only I had her brilliant imagination...
I used to have a perfect life. Well, as close to perfect as anyone could wish for. I had a big family that I loved, and that loved me. I had brothers to play with and protect me. I had a dad and a mom, and even though we weren't rich, we were happy. I had a best friend. I had a boyfriend. I had everything a girl could ever wish for. But one person slowly tore everything apart.
Lord Voldemort. He destroyed my perfect world. And he started with me. That was when I realized that my perfect life was over, after he used me. I came to terms with the fact that after that experience, I would never be the same again. I was just a puppet for him, just another person to possess and control. And I never felt as ashamed of myself as when I discovered what was happening to me, what I was allowing him to do to me. My first year at school was ripped from me, and I remember it in only haphazard puzzle pieces that never fit together correctly. I had a lot of time to discover what was going on though. I had time to cope, time to try to figure out a plan, time to fight.
They weren't granted any of that precious time that I was. They didn't have time to think or to fight. At least I don't think so. They were just there, and then gone. My brother, my best friend, and the love of my life, all gone before I even had a chance to say goodbye. It was the most I ever cried, the day I realized that Ron would never give me one of his bone-breaking hugs, or that I would never see Hermione's hair give off that electric static that it did when she was excited, or that I would never again kiss Harry, or run to greet him as he made his way over the threshold of the house. At first I refused to believe it. I didn't see how it could be possible. They were all so young, and bright, with wonderful futures ahead of them. How could it be true? And for a long time I continued life as usual without them, barely dwelling on their memories, because I had convinced myself so thoroughly that they would be coming back at any moment. But soon that feeling of ignorance began to wear off. I began to miss them. I missed them so terribly that sometimes I felt as if I would faint from the dizziness the feeling gave me.
Those three, they had always been my light in the darkness. I always knew that when times became unbearable, they would be the flame that would shine through, give hope, radiate light to the ones who needed it. Usually the one who needed it was me. I'm not ashamed of that. I needed them. I still need them. And I don't think that being dependent on other people is anything to be ashamed of. To me it just means that sometimes you aren't quite strong enough to hold the weight the world has placed on your shoulders. Harry told me that. He told me that he never felt guilty, needing me, or Ron, or Hermione. He told me that his weight was larger than anyone's, and there was no reason for him to think he was intended to carry it all on his own. He told me there was no reason for me to think that either. I believed him. And I still do.
I think I knew deep down that their flame, always bright and dancing, was beginning to flicker. I knew that they didn't have as much of a chance as they did when they started. I saw their hope beginning to dwindle. I never said anything though, because I didn't want to believe it. Or maybe I didn't say anything because I was so convinced that soon the flame would flare up once again. It never crossed my mind that the flame, that had sustained me for so long, would grow fainter and fainter, flickering, until Lord Voldemort blew it out with his final breath, and then it would be gone forever.
But the shadow of the presence of their light, however faint it had become, was still visible in the darkness. And I don't think that illusion will ever fade entirely. There will always be a place in the darkness where their flame once burned that will never be taken by anything else. Just as there will always be a place in my heart for my brother, Ron, the loyal friend and the strategist, my best friend, Hermione, the understanding and intelligent one, and the love of my life, Harry Potter, the noble hero and the Chosen One, the boy with the lightning bolt scar.