Tomorrow Beyond Imagining

Harry's eyes danced across the unfamiliar sights, taking in what used to be a home - his home. It was the place where he was supposed to grow up, the place where he was supposed to be loved unconditionally until the day that he died. Instead it was a pile of rubble that meant nothing to him. It was the place of his parent's death and on this dark November night it would most likely become his final resting place too.

Snow fell silently from the dark sky as Harry walked from the parlor deeper into the guts of the house he had never seen, and, as he now understood that he had never wanted to see. Shadows danced across the walls as the dim, pale light given off by the half moon drifted down into the main hall of the house and illuminated vanishing snowflakes.

So many deaths had been caused because of one incident here sixteen years earlier and they had all been his fault. He blamed himself for each person who had given their life in sacrifice, like his parents, and each person that was attacked out of sheer misfortune, like Cedric Diggory or Amelia Bones. Everyone always told him that they weren't his fault, Ron and Hermione always gave words of comfort on dark nights in front of the Common Room fire; but how could he not blame himself?

He had been there when Cedric had been murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was he who convinced Cedric to touch the trophy at the same time. For once, he had tried to share the glory, he had tried to protect his image, and a boy had died. He never grew out of it, though, and made the same mistake a year later. He had to go gallivanting off to play hero, something he thought he must be horrible at if so many people kept dying, and Sirius ended up gone forever.

It was all the same. Every death was another reminder that he, The-Boy-Who-Lived, wasn't the savior everyone thought him to be. Maybe he was just a lunatic and all this was some twisted nightmare inside his head. Maybe after all those years of abuse, the Dursleys had finally gotten to him and he had gone insane. Maybe it was all just a bad dream...

Harry brushed his hand over a deteriorating end table before placing one foot carefully on the bottom stair, half afraid that memories might come rushing back from that fateful day sixteen long years ago. The day when his life had been doomed to a never-ending hell, a never-ending torture chamber.

Articles in newspapers and magazines now a days praised him as the 'Chosen One' - the one man who could bring peace and prosperity to the wizarding world. He was a hero and he hadn't accomplished anything yet. Maybe wasn't going to accomplish anything at all.

"Harry." He heard a small whisper from beside him and felt a small hand squeeze his elbow. He turned to look down into the loving eyes of his girlfriend, Ginny. They had broken up once before, but a world without her love was much worse than any fate he had already resigned himself to. He was being selfish in dragging her into this, but something told him she would make it out alive. Even if he didn't.

He turned back around and placed his foot on the dusty, wooden floorboards of the hallway. His eyes grazed over everyone in the crowd behind them. Molly and Arthur, Remus and Tonks, Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna - it seemed as if everyone was with the one they loved tonight. Love was an important factor in winning this war. It was the one thing Voldemort could never understand.

It was Ron's love for Hermione and Hermione's love for Ron that would pull them through this night together. They would never dream about leaving each other's sides for a moment, and both would willingly sacrifice themselves for the other. Harry had to leave Ginny's side, he had no choice, and without her beside him he had no idea if he would make it through the battle that lay before him. He loved her, no doubt, and she loved him, but was that enough? Would their love be able to stretch the distance from the front parlor to his old nursery?

His eyes refocused on Ginny, taking in her small form standing up straight in determination. A small smile tugged at his lips and he knew now was the time. There was never a better time. Reaching inside his robes, he watched as confusion flitted across Ginny's face then saw her eyes widen when he pulled out a small black box.

"Ginny," he breathed, opening the box to reveal two simple silver bands. He watched as tears formed in her eyes - tears, he hoped, that were of joy and not sadness. He slipped the ring with "Harry Potter" engraved on its surface onto her left ring finger while slipping an identical band with "Ginevra Weasley" engraved on its surface onto his left ring finger. He was the only person she ever allowed to call her by her full name.

He was thankful that nothing more needed to be said. It was like her to understand exactly what he meant without words and at a time that he didn't trust himself to speak, it made things much easier.

Intertwining the fingers of their left hands he felt the warmth from her spread through him. "I love you." Three simple words muttered in darkness meant everything to him at this moment. "I love you." Three simple words returned in earnest that could mean life or death.

He turned back towards the staircase and mounted it with an ever-present sense of doom. Three doors down on the left... Harry's hand reflexively shot up to his scar as it began burning. Words from two years earlier rang clear in his mind, "Close your mind, Potter!" Harry dropped all defenses as he slowly made his way down the hall.

How precious - Potter loves her, but does she return his love? Harry nodded to himself, sure that Voldemort could see what he was doing. An all too familiar chuckle filled his head, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Then she will have to die. It is always the one's who love. Haven't you learned yet, Potter? Harry shook his head. Ginny loved him, he loved her, and she would make it through the night. He never doubted that fact.

A light blue door loomed ahead of him. His old nursery and where Voldemort would be waiting for him. Death Eaters were set up to the west, ready to attack when given the signal and Order members to the east on the same instructions.

As Harry's hand reached out and grasped the glass doorknob, he knew one thing was for certain - this night would be bad. And tomorrow would be beyond imagining.