Letters

Ginny dug through her bag, searching for her bottle of shampoo. She could have sworn she took it out of the bag and put it in the bathroom Saturday afternoon, but it wasn't on the shelf in the bathtub. Maybe I imagined putting it in there, she thought. Stranger things have happened when I've been pregnant... The bag just held a collection of socks and knickers that Ginny hadn't been in the mood to unpack the other day.

She would have to go back to the house and get another bottle of shampoo. Sighing, Ginny made her way to the kitchen. 'Mum, I'm going to run a few errands. I'll be back in a bit.'

'Whatever for?' Molly asked, rolling out dough for biscuits.

'It seems I forgot to bring my shampoo with me.' Ginny snatched an unbaked biscuit off the baking sheet, dodging Molly's swat with a wooden spoon.

'Ginny, we have shampoo here. Use mine, for Merlin's sake.'

'I don't like yours,' Ginny said. 'It makes my hair look a shambles.'

Molly laid more biscuits on the baking sheet. 'Fine. Don't be out too late, all right?'

'Back in two hours, tops,' promised Ginny, walking out of the back door. She pushed open the garden gate, and Apparated, disappearing before it had swung shut.

She re-appeared in the lane behind her house, drawing her wand from her pocket. She jabbed it at the door, and it swung open. As Ginny walked through the back door, she felt a cool tingle ripple over her skin. The wards Harry put up over the house wouldn't let anyone but her or Harry into the house. If it had been someone else, like Ron, he would have found himself in the lane, flat on his bum.

Ginny sighed in the cool, quiet house. It was getting warm and in spite of the charms Molly had on the oven, it made the Burrow quite stuffy when she baked. She hurried up the stairs to her bedroom, and went into the bathroom. There were a few spare bottles of shampoo in the cupboard. She picked one up and stuffed it into her bag, and paused, hand hovering over the sandalwood-scented soap Harry liked. Without bothering to consider why, Ginny snatched a few bars and stuffed them into her bag, as well. The t-shirt he'd left on the floor of her bedroom in the Burrow Sunday morning still bore traces of the unmistakable aroma of Harry. The soap would have to do as a substitute until he came home.

Going back down the stairs, Ginny glanced into the office. The bottom drawer of Harry's desk was slightly ajar. He said there were papers in there... Ginny chewed the inside of her cheek, weighing going in to read whatever it was that Harry had left, or walking away. She swung the bag to the sofa, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. She carefully lowered her bulk into the chair, and opened the drawer.

A single folder lay in the bottom of the drawer. Ginny drew it out, and laid it on the desk. She stared at it for a moment, then slowly took in a deep breath, and opened it. Three things lay inside - piece of parchment bearing the words, "The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter" and another document with the name of the cemetery where James, Lily, and Sirius were buried. Well, James and Lily, at any rate. Sirius' grave is empty. And a sealed, folded piece of parchment also lay inside, with just a single word on the front: Ginny.

Feeling slightly as if she was tempting fate, Ginny picked up Harry's will. Her eyes widened as they traveled down the page. She had no idea Harry had that much money. Not that she didn't know when she married him that he was fairly wealthy, but she didn't know just how much he was worth. She suspected that before he had this will written, he didn't know, either. His job paid quite well, and hers not quite as well, but even if they only had that to live on, they could still be comfortable. Neither of them were extravagant in their spending. If anything, they tended to be fairly frugal when it came to money.

She dashed away the tears that slipped down her cheeks, when she came to the part where he intended to leave a portion of his fortune to her parents. He had always wanted to repay them for everything they had done for him when he was a child, but Harry knew they'd never accept a single Knut. If nothing else, he made sure she, Teddy, James and Bun were all going to be taken care of. She mentally tallied the cost of books, robes, and the other things for school, and realized that even if the cost of things went up several times their current value, it was more than enough for the three children to attend school and have the extra things, like good broomsticks and ample pocket money.

Ginny laid the will aside, and picked up the second parchment. It was rather straightforward. Harry asked that if something happened to him, that he be buried next to his parents and Sirius. If there wasn't a body, he asked that a headstone be put up anyway. Everything was arranged. From the funeral to the wording of the headstone was taken care of. Ginny swiped her sleeve across her face. She didn't want to try to imagine what it would be like if Harry died. She didn't have to. She had plenty of memories of her parents trying to make arrangements for Fred's funeral in those stunned days after the battle. Her normally competent parents were unable to make the simplest decisions regarding Fred's burial. Charlie, amazingly, had been the one to step in, and choose the austere granite block that had the words "Frederick Gideon Weasley" and his birthday and the day of the battle engraved on it. George had come out of his stupor long enough to insist that "Mischief Managed" be added underneath. Those were the first words he's spoken in days.

Shaking her head, Ginny snapped back to the present. Harry had been in a state of shock for those first few months. He went where people steered him, ate, or pushed around the plate, what someone put in front of him at meals. She was surprised he would remember how difficult it had been for everybody to make arrangements for an event they thought wouldn't occur for decades. But she was grateful she wouldn't have to try to make any sort of decision about that. She didn't think she'd be able to.

Ginny picked up the last piece of parchment. It opened at her touch.

18 May 2006

Dear Ginny,

If you're reading this, you've either snooped through my desk, or I'm dead. I really, really hope it's the former. Because I'm not sure I'd like the latter to be why you're reading this letter.

If you have been snooping, then you've also found the other papers. Even now, I don't remember much about that first month after the war, except for your mum and dad and Andromeda all trying to make arrangements. Actually, I don't remember much about that, either. I just have this picture of the three of them sitting around the kitchen table, with endless cups of tea in front of them and the cloud of uncertainty that hung over them.

Even though it's not nearly as dangerous as it once was, there is still a lot of danger inherent in my job, and the idea that you might have to sit at our kitchen table, with that cloud over you bothered me. So after we were married, I went to Godric's Hollow and made my funeral arrangements. You might think it's horribly presumptuous of me, to take this decision out of your hands, but I do it because I love you.

You do know that if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been able to go face Riddle. But what you don't know (and I don't know why I've never told you) is that you were the last person I saw before I went into the Forest. I was under the Invisibility cloak, and I could swear that you knew I was there. And the last coherent thought I had, as Riddle said the words meant to send me to my death, was of you.

I don't know when I fell in love with you. I don't know if it was back when I was twelve, and the idea that you might be dead sent chills down my spine. Or when I was fourteen, and Neville asked you to the Yule Ball. Or the Easter I was fifteen and we were talking about Sirius in the library. That was when I knew that I could confide in you if I needed to. I knew for sure when I was sixteen. When I could smell your hair in the Amortentia potion in Slughorn's class. I never told you that, did I? But I knew by my nineteenth birthday I didn't want to live the rest of my life without you.

That being said, Ginny, I don't want you to be alone for the rest of your life. I know you have your family, but it's not the same, and you know it by now as well as I do. I want you to be happy, Gin. And I'm not convinced yet that spending the rest of your life alone is the best way to do it.

But I promise you, Ginny; I will try my hardest to make sure that doesn't happen. Because I'm sure if I die, you will kill me.

Don't ever forget that I love you, Ginevra. And that my last dying thought will be of you.

Love,

Harry

Ginny folded the parchment with shaking hands and laid it back in the folder, where it re-sealed itself, once it lost contact with her hands. She buried her face into her arms and burst into tears.

*****

Ginny climbed into the bed with a slight pang. As narrow as it was, it felt as vast as their bed in Godric's Hollow without Harry. She was exhausted, but didn't feel like sleeping. Charlie was still awake, and Ginny knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, if he wasn't sleeping himself. She picked up the copy of Pride and Prejudice from the table, and opened it. A folded piece of parchment slid from between the pages, and into her lap. The front of it held her name, in Harry's angular hand. A soft susurrus of the edges of parchment, prying themselves apart, signaled he had sealed it, like the letter in the desk.

With a glance at Charlie, Ginny turned the parchment over and began to read.

24 June 2006

Dear Ginny,

I've been an Auror for eight years. And this is the first time I've ever wanted to walk away from an assignment. Because it means leaving you alone to deal with all this. And yes, I know, at some point, your family's going to step in and fill the void. It doesn't make it any easier for me to leave you again tomorrow.

I considered leaving now, while you were asleep, because I don't want to have to tell you good-bye again. But that's the coward's way out of things, and I won't do that to you.

I know we haven't exactly been on the same page the past few days, and you will never know how sorry I am. Because it's been my fault, Gin. There were other people who could have gone on this assignment, and I could have stayed here, and checked in with them. But I went anyway. I saw it as my chance to get my revenge. I didn't think about it that way then, but I know that now. It wasn't fair to you. Or James. Or Albus.

I have hated being away from you. I didn't realize how much I depended on you until I couldn't turn to you in the night, and remind myself that my nightmares aren't real anymore. I didn't realize until I didn't have you next to me in bed, that I couldn't talk to you about the case, and I have missed being able to do that. I should have done that from the beginning.

I was wrong. And I'm going to try and make it up to you. If I can.

Ron and Hermione were my first friends. And they are still two of the best friends I have in the world. But you, Gin... You're the best friend I'll ever have. Everything I've earned... Everything I've ever done... It's nothing without you. Because I have to tell you, Gin, the reality of my life with you is so much better than anything I could have dreamed.

I love you, Ginny. I always have since I figured out what it meant to love someone wholeheartedly. And I always will.

Love,

Harry

A single tear dripped from Ginny's face, and landed on the bottom of the parchment, blurring Harry's signature. She carefully folded it again, and tucked it into the book. She laid the book on the table once again, and slid down in the bed. Ginny turned on her side so Charlie couldn't see the tears that welled from the corners of her eyes and dripped onto the pillow.