I'm Positive by Sage Vale

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 20/11/2005
Last Updated: 20/11/2005
Status: Completed

They were on their honeymoon when they got the call. Character Death/Implied Self-Mutilation.
One-Shot




1. Chapter One
--------------



**Title:** I'm Positive

**Author:** Sage Vale

**Summary:** They were on their honeymoon when they got the call. Character Death/Implied
Self-Mutilation. One-Shot

**Disclaimer:** Of course this isn't JKR's. It's on Portkey.

**A/N:** Yes, I know some of you want to hurt me right now. I owe a chapter for each of my
stories. I want to hurt me right now. But I was reading a story yesterday, and the ending sprouted
a plot bunny. So….the result. By the way…there is a reason I don't give the bride's name
for a while. Also, don't be fooled by the title; this is a very negative story. At least to
some HP fans

~*~*~*~*~

They were on their honeymoon when they got the call.

Hawaii, one of the most romantic places in the world. Also, the home of a large wizarding
community. They had been walking back to their hotel after a stroll on the beach when a concierge
walked up to them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, and I know you requested no
disturbances, but an urgent owl came today from a Mr. Weasley,” before Harry and his wife could
object, the concierge shoved a letter into Harry's hands and hurried off before
The-Boy-Who-Lived and his bride could respond. Said Boy-Who-Lived kissed his wife's forehead
and walked off to read the letter in privacy. Barely a minute later, Harry rushed back to her side,
his face paler than usual. He took her hands and practically dragged her to their room.

“Harry, what's going on?” his wife asked. Her husband ignored her until their hotel room
door was closed. Harry took her hands and pulled her close. Before Mrs. Potter could open her mouth
again, her husband Apparated to a flat in London, and she was forced to come along.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a total mob scene at a flat in Central London. There were Aurors everywhere inside. Harry
and his wife Apparated into the living room of the flat, where a red haired man was being comforted
by his mother on a couch. As soon as the Potters got their footing, the man gave Harry a brotherly
hug.

“She's gone, mate,” his friend said. Harry's eyes were beginning to get a little red
too. Harry gave his friend a pat on the back.

“I know Ron. Shh….” He never got any farther though. His wife pushed between him and Ron
abruptly. Her eyes had a crazed look in them. She finally understood her husband's distress

“What are you talking about? She'll be right back….she just…went out for some air….it's
so crowded in here…” then Mrs. Potter passed out.

Harry and Ron carried Mrs. Potter to a spare room. *She* had been in her room when she
died. Her sheets were stained with blood, her wrists two jagged scabs. After brushing the hair away
from her face, and kissing her forehead, Harry left his wife with Ron and went into *her*
room.

It was almost like *she* hadn't….it was like *she* had just gone out. There were
clothes everywhere, the bed was unmade, and there were clothes set out for *her*. But
everything was a clue. The clothes that weren't in the drawers were all red, and a simple test
would show that all the clothes had been white once. The bed was also covered in *her* blood.
And the clothes that had been set out were black, obviously what *she* wanted to be buried
in.

*Her* body was lying peacefully among the rumpled sheets. She was wearing her old
Gryffindor robes, which barely fit, showing off much of *her* legs and arms. *Her* hair
was wild, as it had always been, and was all over the place. Other than that, *she* was
perfect. *Her* face was made up beautifully; *her* clothes had not a wrinkle underneath
all the blood.

*She* had the face of an angel, and Harry felt the old tug of attraction. It was
overshadowed by the repulsion he felt. He had seen enough, but when he turned around for one last
look, he saw an envelope on top of the funeral clothes. It was from *her*; the curvy script
had a name on the envelope. As Harry picked it up and brought it closer, he could see the name on
the envelope: Harry.

~*~*~*~*~

*Dearest Harry,*

*I'm guessing that, if you're reading this letter, I'm dead. I never beat around
the bush, did I? Well, I'm afraid that now, more than ever, I must be terribly blunt with
you.*

*We always had a connection. Ever since we met in 1**st* *year, I have
had an enormous crush on you. I know you think it's just a celebrity crush; you* **are**
*Harry Potter, after all. But, no, it's not. I've loved you since I first met you. I
didn't always know it was love and not just lust**, but after 6**th*
*year, I knew it was love. However, you were on the hunt for Voldemort, so I figured it
wasn't the right time.*

*`He'll come around. When Voldemort's gone, we'll be together. I'm
positive.'*

*Then you defeated Voldemort, but you were also gravely wounded. I know how you longed to play
professional quidditch, but that battle ruined it for you. When I got the news, I hurried to St.
Mungo's. I wanted to be the one you saw when you woke up, and be the first person who you
smiled at. It was our time; I could feel it in my heart. But, before I opened the door to your
room, I heard voices. I quietly opened the door.* **She** *was there, talking to you. It
was* **her** *you had seen when you first woke up, and* **she** *was the one you
were smiling at.*

*At first glance, I shrugged it off. `They're friends; it's only natural he enjoys her
company. As soon as I make my entrance, he'll be all mine. I'm positive.'*

*Then you did the unthinkable.* **You** *kissed* **her.**

*To say I was appalled was an understatement. When I saw you kiss her, I ran to the nearest
loo and emptied my stomach. I couldn't believe it.* **I** *was supposed to be the one
you were kissing.*

*Of course, I didn't tell you that. After dry heaving for a few minutes, I cleaned myself
up and walked into your room.* *You were still talking to* **her.** *I made myself
known, and, as I predicted, you forgot all about her. I couldn't help it; I smiled at her
smugly. She might have gotten your first moments, but I was the one who would have you for the rest
of our lives.*

*But you were still hurt, I could tell. It was like you had forgotten your place in my life.
Even after several months , when you had already left St. Mungo's, you were distant towards me.
I tried everything; I practically dropped friggin anvils on your head! But you still were far away
from anything that included me. Then came that dinner at the Burrow. The one where I found out that
you were engaged…..to* **her.**

*`It's nothing,' I told myself, `He's just forgotten himself. I know that, by
tomorrow, he'll break it off and come running back to me. I'm positive.'*

*But you were too stupid to know what you were supposed to do. You kept playing the happy
fiancée, and you avoided me even more. What was wrong with you? Had that battle completely altered
your mind? You were NOT supposed to be with* **her.** *However, I still had hope. Whenever
I saw you, I noticed the looks you sent towards me. They were filled with longing and love. Like
you wanted to be with me, but something was keeping you bound to* **her.**

*When* **her** *big day came, I was overjoyed. I had figured out your plan: You were
going to wait until the vows, then say `I don't.'* *Then, we were going to ride off
into the sunset, using the horse* **she** *had gotten for your farewell ride. I stood there
as the Maid of Honor, and when the vows came, I was practically radiating with joy.*

*Then, everybody became deaf. When you said your vows, where I heard `I don't',
everyone else heard `I do.' It was quite sad really; I saw the look of horror on your face
as* **she** *kissed you, sealing the marriage. I had expected you to push* **her**
*off and declare your undying love for me, but you didn't. You let* **her** *kiss
you, just like you let* **her** *wrap her arms around you as you rode off on the horse. As
you disappeared over the horizon, I felt a chill in my heart. What had you done? You had let*
**her** *take you away. I suddenly didn't want you anymore. You were too weak. You could
never stand up to anyone; it was a miracle you defeated Voldemort. But, without the thought of you
coming to me, I had nothing left to live for.*

*I know this is a preferred method of Muggle suicide. After I finish this letter, I'll put
it on top of the clothes I would very much like to be buried in. Then, I shall send an owl to*
*my family, telling them to come over immediately.*

*All because of you.* *So now, Harry Potter, I have to say some very important things to
you.*

*I hate you, Harry James Potter. I hate you because you let her love you.* *I hate you
because you let her take you away from me.*

*I know that this letter will show you the error of your ways. I know you will* *feel
unimaginable guilt, followed by the rush of love I know you always felt. I'm positive.*

*With All the Love and Hatred in my Heart,*

*Ginevra Molly Weasley*

~*~*~*~*~

To say Harry was shocked was an understatement. To hear, sort of, that Ginny had always loved
him…

However, instead of that rush of guilt and love Ginny had been so positive of, Harry felt pity
and rage. Pity that this bright young woman had wasted so much of her life pining away for him.
Rage that she had been so sure that his love for Hermione had been false. Harry wanted to break
something, so he did. He took that long, emotional letter that Ginny had written, and ripped it up.
He ripped the letter into pieces until they were too small for him to rip. Then he dumped the
confetti in the trash can. But even though the letter was beyond repair, the words would always
stay with him.

Harry walked out of Ginny's room. This time, he didn't look back.

**End**

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