Pigeons

She feeds the pidgeons.

It was a simple task, thoughtless, letting her mind wander back to the old times, when she hadn't been alone.

Her hand slips, scattering the seed around the bench where she is sitting. The pigeons flock to it, pecking it all up, until only a scattered pile of shells are left.

She sees a young muggle girl walking with her mother, her cheeks glowing with excitement. The girl sees a friend and rushes over, completely oblivious of her mother watching, with a mixture of worry and pride in her face.

A pigeon pecks her finger impatiently, taking her attention away from the mother. She spreads the seed and remember when she had dreamed to see herself as a mother like that. But it was only that- a dream. And dreams had to be let go.

It was hard to believe that it had been fifty years since she had last seen him. Fifty long years with no one lying by her side, no one to talk the long nights away with. No one but the pigeons.

Yes, her old friends had visited her, had comforted her. All of her brothers- except for one- had stayed and comforted her, had tried to help her. But she was beyond such words of comfort, and they turned their attention to their own lives.

A large empty space had opened up in her heart in those fifty years. A space that had once been filled with Tom, and then with Harry. And then seeing both of their bodies, flung to the side of an old orphanage- it was too much. The part of her heart that had been given so willingly to those two was now ripped out, leaving only a cavernous space.

She scattered more seed throughout the pigeons. They pecked faster, picking up all of it.

True, she had not been the only one who had lost a loved one. She had seen Dean's tears when Lavender had fallen to the ground. Draco, letting out a sob of sadness, as he saw Cho's body on the ground, and Pansy's hysterical shrieks as she saw Bellatrix torture him to death for betrayal to the Dark Lord. No one realized had that their two leaders had died; and they fought until the bitter end.

All the death from that war haunted her. The screams, the pleads for mercy, all becoming silent when a jet of green light would hit their chest. The memory of Dean coming up to her after it was over, and sobbing on her shoulder, all past wounds forgotten. The memory of Ron and Hermione, telling her what had happened to Harry, her apparating to the orphanage, and seeing their bodies.

It all happened too soon. The only two people that she had ever loved deeply, dying at the hands of one another. It was too much to bear.

A laugh woke her from her reminisces. The same young girl and her friend, a little boy were walking by her bench. The boy was stifling a giggle. The girl rolled her eyes at him, but continued to smile.

The hole in her heart seemed less important. Youth was beautiful. She remembered Bill and Fleur's little girl, a strawberry- blonde little devil, bring some happiness into the Burrow, which had been troubled by the same memories that still hurt them today.

Resilience was what some would call it. Together, the remaining magical folk began to rebuild what had been lost. True, they couldn't rebuild lives, but together, a new magical school was built on the ruins of Hogwarts. St. Mungo's was being expanded with the gold donated from all over Britain. A new Minister of Magic was elected, as Scrimegeor had quit to fight with the others, and opened a new Defence School during the summers for everyone, called Dumbledore's Army. The Chudley Cannons won the Quidditch Cup, and though everyone knew that it was not a result of the end of the war, the game was still dedicated to those who had died.

She knows that Harry would have wanted a world with love. And the world seemed to have met his demands.

Ginny smiles and scatters seed among the pigeons.