Twenty-Twenty Hindsight

Epilogue

I died that night - June seventh, at eight forty-seven p.m. They found my body the next day when I didn't show up for my OWL in History of Magic. I had told Cynna that we were going for a walk around the lake, so she was able to tell them that's the last time she had seen me.

It was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall who found my body. They wouldn't allow any students to come with them, just in case. Professor McGonagall immediately burst into tears when she saw me. I can understand why; my face and neck were covered in dried blood, my nose was broken and crooked, and I was covered in bruises - they were all over my face, neck, and torso, where he had punched me.

They brought my body back to the school, once Professor McGonagall had composed herself. They made sure that no students saw me - they cast deterrent charms on my corpse so that any students they might happen upon would suddenly remember that they had to be somewhere else. They brought my body up to the infirmary, where Madame Pomfrey conducted a magical autopsy.

She declared that the final cause of death was asphyxiation, but also informed the Professors that my body was overly weak and malnourished. She said that there was deep physical damage that, while it had subsided in the past few months, still showed up under the examination. Thus they discovered that I had, apparently, suffered from anorexia - I had ended up dropping over forty-five pounds to weigh only seventy pounds at my lowest - and physical abuse.

When they finally told my family of my death, they were completely and utterly heartbroken. They called my parents and all my siblings - including the long-estranged Percy - to the school that afternoon and told them all together.

Surprisingly, I think Ron took it the worst of everyone. Although I had always been closest to Bill, I think that Ron felt personally responsible because of his lack of attention to my life. He refused to speak to anyone - even Harry and Hermione - for weeks.

Mum was, of course, horrified. When Dumbledore told her, she completely broke down. I've never seen her so miserable, not even when Percy left that night, two summers before.

Cynna and Alexis were devastated. They, too, took my death personally. They had tried, on countless occasions, to put a stop to whatever it was that had changed me so dramatically. They had never found out about it, though - the abuse. They thought that I was unhappy or depressed, but never seriously suspected that he was abusing me. They weren't shocked when they were told of my brief anorexia. They were days away from telling Professor McGonagall when I had started eating again.

My funeral was held two days later, in the grounds. Not many people were truly sorry for my death. Not that I was expecting them to be so devastated as when Cedric Diggory had died - hardly anyone knew me, really. I had always been the one in the background; the one who trailed around with others, usually my brother or Cynna. Even the people who met in the Room of Requirement had hardly known me. In the end, it was no headlining affair.

Ron sat in his chair for six hours and twenty-three minutes after the funeral was over. He seemed to be in a trance, occasionally crying, but otherwise showing no emotion or sign of life. He only got up when Hermione and Harry came to get him at ten-thirty that night, in order that he wouldn't get hypothermia. It was the coldest night in June in Hogwarts History, apparently. He didn't speak to them - as I said, he didn't say a word for several weeks after I died.

I like to think that my death, and the manner in which I died, made a difference. From there on out, students were educated about abuse and eating disorders, something that very few had known about prior to my death. Of course, it was at first very difficult to get through to the very old pure-blooded students. Abuse was a part of their lives, especially the ones who were sorted into Slytherin. Eventually, they began to realize that it wasn't right.

They had also never heard of eating disorders. It was a completely foreign concept to them, and it took a long time for them to grasp the idea.

There was even a wizarding law passed three years later. It was, as a matter of fact, Percy who passed it. He had been made the Minister for Magic that year, making him the youngest in Wizarding History. The first thing he passed was Ginevra Weasley's Law, which made physical abuse of any witch or wizard illegal if it caused lasting physical or mental anguish.

Harry became an auror, of course. He was on the job for only six months before he died in his quest to rid the world of Voldemort. His saving grace was that he also killed Voldemort once and for all. He is the greatest hero known to Wizard kind, and now has his own Chocolate Frog Card.

Bill and Fleur's daughter grew up to become a model - big surprise there. She is said to be the most beautiful witch to have walked the Earth, and in a strange way, it makes my mother very proud.

Cynna and Alexis started their own business together. It was the first Mental and Physical Health and Awareness Clinic in Wizarding History.

Ron and Hermione married two years after I died. They had three children - all girls. Ron loves them dearly, especially the youngest, whom he and Hermione named Ginevra. She's the only one of the three with red hair.

I became another ghost at Hogwarts. I wasn't a ghost at first; I didn't attain a visible form for several years, and after that I didn't speak to anyone but - surprisingly - Moaning Myrtle for a few years after that. I am now another resident ghost in Gryffindor Tower alongside Nearly Headless Nick, and I assist in educating new students about physical abuse and eating disorders, making me the only ghost teacher at Hogwarts aside from Professor Binns.

As for my abuser, Draco Malfoy never went to Azkaban. He disappeared the night of my death, and was never seen by any of those close to me again. I know that he ended up serving as a Death Eater in the northernmost parts of Russia, but I was unable to use that information to have him arrested because I found out several years after a rampaging Manticore killed and maimed him. He was twenty-three.