Final Memories

Where's my Daily Prophet. Ah, here it is. Now, oof. I mustn't drop into the chair like that. Right, glasses. God, I hate wearing these things. They pinch the end of your nose too much. Trust me to lose an ear otherwise I could have worn ordinary glasses. Now, where's the horoscope? Oh, I wish I could stop this damn shaking. Comes of being one hundred and seventeen years old I suppose. Ah, here we are. No, no, no, ah yes. Ha, ha, I'm going to find love! Now that would be interesting. I only get the milkman visit now, and I am sure his wife would have something to say about that. Nobody visits anymore. For twenty years I have lived in this house since retirement. Twenty long and lonely years with only the milkman visiting and he comes at five in the morning.

What else is in here? Oh, dear, another one of those depressing on this day articles. But wait! It's a full-pager. Must be something big! I wonder what it is this time.

On This Day ... A Special Award for a Hogwarts Student - Date: 14th July 1997

Blimey, that was a long time ago. I wonder who it was?

Hermione Granger receives a new special award for doing the most subjects and getting full marks in all of them. Students normally take 10 subjects, but Miss Granger (17) took an amazing 22. An outstanding achievement.

Hermione! Well, well. Hermione Granger. Now there's a name I thought I would never hear again. This picture does not do you justice. You should have worn a hair band like I told you to. Silly wild hair. Always getting it caught on something. We hated you when we first met you. I was a pure blood and you were Muggle born making you a Mud Blood. And you were an insufferable know-it-all. But we became friends as children do. We fought together in the war. Just what would have happened if you had survived? Just think, one week after you got your award, you were killed by Voldemort personally because he couldn't have someone on the planet with more skill and cunning than him. Oh, look at me, crying like a girl. Just like you cried when he took his wand and cut you in half with it. Could I have helped you? I don't know. Maybe I could have sealed you wound. Got you to hospital. Maybe. I held your hand as you died. But your face will be the same now after all this time as it is in this picture: bright and no tears. We grew close at school. But I could have never loved you, as a lover should. You were like the sister I never had, and I could not be physical in that way. Touching you in that way would be incest in my mind. That made me feel sick. I had hoped you would have understood when I turned you away. You were embarrassed and upset. But I had always had a special place in my heart for you, sister. I hoped you understood about how I felt about you when you were killed. I could not bear the thought that you died unhappy that I only wanted you as a sister. Are there tears where you are now?

Ooh, this wooden leg hurts in the damp weather. I ought to get it fixed. Never mind. I might be gone soon. Ah, that's better. The pain is a little less now. I ought to leave it off completely.

What plans you, I, and Ron made for the future. Ron. Ron loved you. He was your lover. Did you know he cried for a month when the two halves of your body were laid to rest? Ah, well, he is with you now. I wonder if you recognised him as he had an extra twenty years on this Earth than you? Do you age, in heaven? Can you choose the age at which you walk through those gates? Ron, what adventures we had. Going to Auror college, our graduation. Like me, you were alone in this hideous world of ours. But we were together, fighting the evil, drinking until our livers burst. Ha, ha, what about the girls! Yep, lots of them, all over the world. We were superheroes, on a quest to rid the world of evil, but that was ended on your thirty seventh birthday. Stupid mistake, and even a wizard cannot survive a plunge twelve thousand feet from his broom to be buried under hundreds of tons of rock.

What's that light? Oh, nothing. It must be the sun breaking through the clouds. Bloody rain.

Yes Ron, you were alone. I went past The Burrow the other day. Or was it the other year? Another wall has caved in. Comes of being empty for over one hundred years I suppose. Soon it will become nothing more than a pile of rocks, nothing like the family home it once was. Future generations will clear the site and it will begin again. Another house, another wizard family. That house had seen some action over the years. Remember the time I came to stay and we threw gnomes over the wall? We laughed so much. I didn't want the summer to end. But like everything does, it did. And like all things, lives came to an end all too soon. Your mum and dad died because of me. I should not have sent them to that place, the place where Voldemort was hiding. I didn't know. How could I? At least it was quick. Swish and flick and bang. All over. You saw it. I wish you hadn't. Your brother, what's his name, Will, no, Bill, that's it. Bill. At least he took several of the bastards with him when he went. We never did find out what happened to Percy. Stupid prat! Brown-nosing his way to the top. What was the other brother, oh, don't tell me, er, Charlie. Yes, Charlie. Torture is a horrible way to go. Voldemort was good at it though. Holding you on the brink of death, allowing him to be God for a moment, then snuffing out the light of life as easy as blowing out a candle.

Damn, that light's getting brighter.

Your twin brothers, Fred and, damn my memory, not what it used to be. God, what was his name? George, that's it. I knew it would come to me. Those jokers! Always in trouble at school and always in trouble at work. Their joke shop was a great place to hang out. You could never take anything from them though. If they offered you a cup of tea, it might have made you sprout boils or grow beetroots from your ears. Remember when Fred gave Malfoy that cake? Ha, ha, ha, his face as he grew those long rabbit ears! What happened to them? Your brothers, not the ears. Ah yes, I remember now. A Death Eater put a curse on their shop. I think the explosion was heard ten miles away. Not a lot left of them, but at least it was quick as well.

Where is that light coming from? Oh, is it the ceiling?

But then what about that little vixen, Ginny, your sister. Ah, Ginny! Ginny, Ginny, Ginny. Even now, the sound of your name is like the feel of an expensive velvet cloak. We were together as lovers should be. I was the king of everything, and you were my queen, Ginny. When we started being together, I was powerful! Invincible! I could do anything. You were the drive behind my life. I can remember the first time we became lovers. I was rough, inexperienced, and you were gentle. I hurt you. I cried. You cried. We both cried. We made love again, but longer, slower, carefully. Oh, bliss was being in your arms and feeling your lips against mine. Your fiery red hair matched your fiery temper. We fought, but always made up. And what making up we did! Voldemort took you away as he did everyone else. He took you because you were close to me and knew it would hurt me more than any physical pain he could inflict on me. He was such a fucking bastard! He did not have to open your body to scatter your entrails across the floor before your frightened eyes. Avada Kedavra would have sufficed. I had to do it! I had to kill you, as survival was not an option with those injuries. My heart was shattered when I did it. The look on your face afterwards was peace. Perfect peace. Did you know, Ginny, I never got close to any girl after then? Sex with another woman was just that. Sex. With you it was the deepest love. I wanted you here, with me, to grow old and frail with. It never happened.

Oh, that light. It's, it's, can it be? Can it possibly be? The light is a tunnel! There are people coming towards me. Can it be? Yes, yes, Ginny! Ginny, you have come for me! Is it time for me to cross over? Now? After so many years? O, divine death. What's this? My leg! It is healed! My hands! They are so young! Take my hand Ginny! I am coming!

***

Harry slumps in his armchair, the newspaper dropping to the floor. His breathing slows then finally stops. There is a knock at the front door and a double-glazing salesman pushes a leaflet through the letterbox.