Harry looked over at his wife of sixty-two years. She looked so helpless, lying there on their bed, once-red hair swirling around her aged face. But to him, she also looked incredibly beautiful. Just as beautiful, if not more, as she had been on the day they had made their love official and exchanged vows.
Oh, he remembered that day so well, even though it was way back when he was only twenty, and she nineteen. He remembered standing next to her, holding her small hands in his own, a few silent tears falling over her cheeks. Her eyes had shone brightly as she had clearly pronounced those two little words.
Harry had thought their wedding day would be the happiest day of their lives. But he was wrong. It was only one of the many happy days the next sixty-two years would provide for them.
But soon those years together would be over.
You with the sad eyes, Don't be discouraged
"Harry?" she called out to him softly.
"Come lie next to me and hold my hand?"
One look at her pleading face and his heart instantly melted. "Of course, Ginny," he said, and gladly obliged by lying down beside her as he slipped his hand into hers. He turned his head towards hers so their eyes could have yet another opportunity to connect. Looking into her beautiful eyes was like opening a floodgate of memories. So many memories of the two of them, both happy and sad, came pouring into his mind. Some of them seemed to be beyond his grasp, but others he held on to with a greedy sense of longing.
The old man smiled as he recalled the day their first child had been born.
Her pregnancy had been a hard one, and more than once, he thought that she had left him forever… but she had come through like she always had for him, and they were rewarded with a son. Their own baby boy. They'd decided to name the child after his Uncle Ron, whom he would never have the opportunity to know, and as a lasting tribute to one of the many losses Voldemort had managed to ensure during his reign of terror.
The baby Ron had his mother's gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and his father's strikingly dark hair; many people remarked that he looked exactly like James Potter.
And those hands of his! How could they be so small and so soft? Little Ron was so tiny, and he was their very own bundle of joy. They had a son.
A soft kiss on his cheek brought Harry back to the present time. He saw his wife, tired and frail, but remembering the happy times as he himself was.
Oh I realize It's hard to take courage In a world full of people
There had been sad times throughout their marriage, too. Times that had tested how strong their marriage really was, which had provided them with the kind of knowledge that comes when one learns from their mistakes.
Times like when Ron was barely a year old and Harry had come home late from a party with his fellow Aurors after celebrating the capture of seven more Death Eaters.
He staggered through the door, completely pissed after spending some time at the Leaky Cauldron with the other Aurors. His wife instantly appeared at his side, baby in her arms, yelling at him for being both late and drunk. He, being the stupid git he was, believed that he had done nothing wrong, and proceeded to call his wife quite a few unmentionable names. And as he reached to take the child from her arms, she pulled the baby away from him, storming out the door to The Burrow.
Ginny hadn't come home for three long days. Those three days had been pure hell for Harry.
But then, after about his hundredth owl to her, she had come home, Ron in her arms again, tears falling from her eyes, sobbing out apologies for having overreacted.
And then she had been in his arms, and he had been crying with her, and apologizing for having been such an idiot, and they had both been whispering their love for each other
They never mentioned that incident again.
But there was never a reason to because there was never another incident like it.
Harry had realized that her love was more important to him than a night spent out getting pissed. From then on, Harry had devoted himself more than ever to her and their child.
They were the world to him.
You can lose sight of it all And the darkness inside you Can make you feel so small
"I know it's hard, darling," Ginny said, interrupting his thoughts. "But please don't cry for me. Please don't."
Harry hadn't even realized he was crying.
"I'm not crying for you," he answered softly. "I'm crying for us."
A smile played across her lips as she heard his reply. He was so sweet and always knew just the right words to say. This is going to be harder for him than it is for me, she thought to herself.
But Ginny would much rather think about the memories they made together throughout the years than the inevitable future which was looming in front of them both.
Memories like the very one which caused all the other fantastic memories to form and gather a place in the back of her head. It was so long ago, and yet she remembered it so clearly that it might as well have been yesterday.
They had been so young. She was only in her sixth year at Hogwarts, and he was a seventh year. There was to be another Yule Ball that year, the first one since the Triwizard Tournament incident.
The Yule Ball was being held again to try and lift the students' spirits while Voldemort was out wreaking havoc on the wizarding world. It was the day before the Ball and she had only been asked to go by Colin Creevey. She had politely refused- she had told him it was because she was a bad dancer, but the truth really was that she had her heart set on a certain green-eyed boy asking her to the ball.
She felt like such a fool.
Just because they had been spending more time together than ever that year because of Ron and Hermione's new relationship, she had stupidly thought that he would express an interest in her romantically.
She had thought that he would actually ask her to the ball.
Rumor had it that he had been planning on asking Parvati Patil again. All she could do was sit in a chair in the Common Room, drowning in her many thoughts, and avoiding eye contact with everyone, but mainly Harry.
And then she had heard him speak to her.
"Ginny?" he had asked, quickly and quietly.
She had looked up to see him staring at his feet, and shuffling them around nervously.
"Yes?" she answered, hoping her voice sounded steadier than it felt.
"Well…erm… you see, Ginny… it's about the Yule Ball," he had glanced up, his face turning red, reminding her of the lost boy she had seen at the train station years ago. "I was wondering if…"
"Harry, if you want me to set you up with Parvati, she's already going with some Ravenclaw her sister introduced her to. Plus," she added, "I don't think she'd go with you even if she didn't have a date, not after that disaster at the last Yule Ball."
His face had clouded over with confusion for a second, and then had broken out into an awkward smile as he had realized what she was talking about.
"That rumor about me asking Parvati to the ball isn't true at all, Gin. You should know that. I've been terrified of even talking to her since the last ball."
"Oh." For the second time that night, she had felt like a fool. "Then what was it you were going to ask me, Harry?"
The nervousness had returned to his face once again. He had looked down at his feet. "I was wondering if… if you'd like to go to the ball with me?"
"Yes!" she had cried out, and then turned bright red, embarrassed to have answered that quickly and that enthusiastically.
But then she had looked up at his face, seeing a huge grin was plastered across it.
"You- you will?" he had asked excitedly.
"Yes," she had replied, shyly.
"Terrific!" And with that, he had bolted up the stairs to his room, leaving an incredibly happy girl alone in the Common Room. A few seconds later he had turned and dashed back down the stairs as though he had forgotten something.
"I forgot to say goodnight," he said, and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, then once again turned red and headed back to his room.
"Goodnight," she had whispered back, her hand on the spot where his lips had touched her cheek.
The night of the Yule Ball had come and gone. It had been magical for the two of them, a hundred times better than their first one. Her new dark blue dress robes had looked great on her, and Hermione had helped her do her style her hair in a fancy up-do.
Harry had looked absolutely gorgeous to her. The night was perfect, and the end of it just completed the feeling.
Harry had clumsily asked her to be his girlfriend, and of course, she had said yes.
For nearly the next seventy years, they had been inseparable.
But now, they would be separated by forces neither could control.
Ginny looked into the eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived, lying at her side, and smiled at him.
He smiled back.
But I see your true colors Shining through I see your true colors And that's why I love you
She knew he would miss her terribly once she was gone. But, as she had repeatedly told him, she wouldn't be completely gone. These memories—all these wonderful memories- would remain behind her.
But even so, why did his last memories of her have to be of her in this weakened and sickly state? It wasn't fair. And it wasn't fair that the cancer was rapidly spreading. Even the most experienced mediwizards and healers couldn't cure her completely without causing permanent damage to her body. Together, they had decided not to take the risk, to just let her spend her last few, precious months of life at home. But if only they had recognized the signs earlier! After the standard treatments, they would have been able to put it all behind them and continue on with their life just as though nothing had ever happened.
But they hadn't, and now they couldn't put it all behind them. It was in front of them, looming. Fate. But, until they met that fate, they had each other, and that was enough.
She squeezed his hand to reassure herself that he was still there for her.
He squeezed her hand back.
So don't be afraid to let them show Your true colors True colors are beautiful, Like a rainbow
Ron and Hermione's wedding. That had been yet another great memory that she could enjoy thinking about before she drew her final breath.
Although the wedding had been proving to be absolutely wonderful, and she had really been enjoying being there, a part of it, Ginny couldn't help but be a little angry at her boyfriend.
They had been going out for nearly as long as Ron and Hermione had, and with many less fights.
Yet Harry had still had not proposed to her.
She had thought that Ron being proposing to Hermione would surely encourage her own boyfriend, and that he too would propose. But he hadn't.
And then he'd had the nerve to come over and try to have a conversation with her while she was trying to sort out her many thoughts and feelings.
"Wonderful wedding, isn't it, darling?" he had casually asked her.
"Yes, it is ‘darling'," she had snapped, "But if you'll excuse me I have to use the loo."
And she hadn't been able to help but let a few tears fall from her eyes and spoil her exit.
"What did I say?" she had faintly heard him ask as she'd ran across the room and into the girls' bathroom to try and hide from all her troubles.
The room was empty when she'd entered. She'd been glad for the solitude. She wanted to be alone to think.
But she wasn't alone for long.
"Gin?" the concerned voice of her best friend had called out. Hermione. "Ginny, I know you're in here," she had continued when she heard no response. Still, Ginny had refused to answer.
"Virginia Weasley, do not make me come and find you. Use your head. Be smart and come out NOW!" Hermione had roared.
Ginny had known better than to put herself in a position to experience Hermione's wrath and had meekly walked out of the stall to face Hermione.
"Harry sent you, didn't he, Hermione?"
She hadn't answered her.
Instead, Hermione had opened her arms and pulled her friend into an embrace. "Now tell me, Ginny," she had began, "what's wrong?"
Ginny had looked up at Hermione, her face streaked with tears. "It's not fair," she'd sobbed, "It's just not fair." And she had proceeded to tell Hermione all that had been bothering her.
Half an hour later, the bride and her bridesmaid had strode out of the bathroom, the groom and his best man waiting for them.
Harry had come up to her, and pulled her over to the side, the concern showing in his eyes. He'd asked, "Are you okay now, Gin?"
She had thought about how he really must love her so much as she told him how sorry she was for yelling at him before.
And then the shock had come.
Harry had taken her hand in his and said to her, "I wanted to do this at a more romantic time, but…"
He had got down on one knee.
She had gasped.
"Virginia Weasley, will you do me the honour of marrying me and becoming my wife?" he'd asked, as he offered her a diamond engagement ring.
"Of course I will, Harry!" She had flung her arms about his neck as he stood up and they had kissed like there was no one else in the world.
Times like those were wonderful, she thought, as she looked down at her engagement ring, now weathered by time, but still bearing the symbol of their strong love.
Thinking about their great and long marriage made her think of Ron and Hermione's. It had barely lasted a year.
Why did Voldemort have to ruin everything?
It wasn't fair.
Show me a smile then, Don't be unhappy, can't remember When I last saw you laughing
She sighed inwardly. Times were also so very hard back then. And now she couldn't imagine how hard of a time Harry would have to endure once she was gone.
"Don't worry about me," she said, feeling his eyes on her, "I'll be just fine. It's you I'm worried about."
It still amazed Harry that Ginny could read his mind like that. She always knew what was on his mind, what was bothering him.
She was absolutely fabulous.
But soon she would be gone.
Chills ran down his spine as he remembered another time when he had been almost positive she was gone. He had been so scared.
It had been the final battle between the Order and Voldemort's side of Dark Wizards.
Unforgivable Curses were being cast left and right. Harry had been fighting with Ron at his side. His new wife and Hermione were fighting somewhere beyond his view.
He'd seen Lucius Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. Heard him speak the words. But he couldn't react in time.
Ron's lifeless body had fallen.
"No!" he had cried out, refusing to believe that it was the body of his best friend lying next to him.
"Had to kill the spare, Harry. But you're used to that now, aren't you?" Lucius Malfoy's voice had been cold and murderous.
"No!" he'd cried out again, this time raising his wand up in anger, prepared to throw the deadly curse onto Lucius Malfoy.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Potter," the sneering voice had said. "I believe I have something of yours."
And so he did. Malfoy had moved to the side to reveal his love, his new wife, her arms and legs tied up at Malfoy's feet. But was she breathing? Was she alive? It was hard to tell.
"Now, Mr. Potter," began Malfoy once more, "I'm willing to give you back your filthy mudblood-loving wife," Malfoy had grinned evilly at him before he spoke again, "for a price."
"Name it. I'll do anything. As long as she's safe," his voice had been barely above a whisper.
"I know you will. That is why the Dark Lord has decided to make a deal with you. Surrender your forces now and your silly little wife shall live."
He had never before been faced with such a hard decision. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have considered surrendering after they had fought so long and lost so much. But for his wife?
And then she had spoken. "No, Harry, don't do it, please don't."
"Shut up you silly girl," Malfoy had snarled. Suddenly, he had collapsed onto the ground, revealing a dagger in his back, and his son standing behind him.
"He deserved it," Draco had said without remorse as he undid the ropes binding his father's hostage. "Now get going, before I decide to kill you, too."
Husband and wife had looked at each other, the shock showing on both their faces.
"Go!" Draco had screamed, and they had sped off, wands out, ready to begin their fight again.
If this world makes you crazy And you've taken all you can bear You call me up Because you know I'll be there
In this present time, he still did not know what had made Draco Malfoy help them for that one time in his life. And he never would get the chance to, either. After the war was over, Harry had been able to find out that Draco Malfoy was among the dead.
Voldemort himself had apparently killed the younger Malfoy once he had heard about what he had done for the two. But Harry and Ginny were grateful to Draco that he had helped them.
Harry glanced at his wife. It really was thanks to Draco Malfoy that they had been able to grow old together, unlike so many others who didn't get the chance to grow old at all.
"I love you, Harry dear," Ginny whispered, her words stumbling and coming out slowly.
She didn't have much longer.
"I love you, too, Ginny. Please don't leave me, Gin, don't!" he sobbed, but then realized how selfish he was being. She had given him so much of her life. She shouldn't have to give him any more, she shouldn't have to be in pain any longer. He understood now. The only reason she had held on this long was for him. She didn't want him to be in pain without her.
"It's okay, Gin. It's okay," he whispered to her. "You don't have to hurt anymore. It's okay."
She smiled. "I love you," she managed to say, as she took her final breath and the life left her body.
"Oh, Ginny," he cried, the tears falling freely from his eyes as he held his lifeless wife.
And I see your true colors Shining through I see your true colors And that's why I love you
A few days later, Harry was at the funeral, watching his wife's body being lowered into the ground. He couldn't cry anymore; he had cried himself out already. But it hurt so much to see someone who had been so full of life be so lifeless now and in the ground.
"Why did things like this have to happen?" Harry thought. He couldn't help what else was running through his mind at the moment.
Kill the spare. He might as well use that statement to define his life. So many other people in his life had died instead of him. Cedric, Sirius, Hagrid, Ron, Minerva McGonagall. And now… Ginny. True, she hadn't been murdered like the others, but still—why hadn't it been him instead of her?
How could he possibly go on without her?
Harry suddenly remembered a conversation they'd had many years ago on whether or not people could die of a broken heart. Ginny had said they could, while he had disagreed.
But now Harry thought that maybe she had been right.
He looked around at the people also attending the funeral. Their children, grandchildren, relatives, friends… they all cared about him, but they could live without him.
"Yes," he thought, "It was possible to die of a broken heart." He could show her that she was right, as always.
"I'm coming, Gin!"he thought.
Before his soul departed from his body, Harry could have sworn that he heard his wife's voice answer him through the wind.
"And I'll be waiting for you, Harry."
So don't be afraid to let them show. Your true colors True colors are beautiful, Like a rainbow.