Two Hearts, Reunited

Ginny watched as Harry lie writhing on the floor in pain. A masked man held her back as Harry was under control of the Cruciatus Curse. He screamed in pain, and Ginny wanted to help, but she could not break the grasp of the man who was holding her.

"Harry!" she screamed, tears rolling down her face. He looked up at her and reached his hand out towards her. As she finally managed to wiggle free of the man's hold on her, she saw a green jolt of light fly out of the other man's wand and hit Harry in the center of his chest. At the exact moment of the curse's impact, the two men apparated with a crack. As she collapsed beside Harry's body, she felt his pulse. Nothing.

She refused to believe it. She picked up his body and sat him in a chair at the dining room table. Her eyes were wide open, and her face was stained with tears. She was not crying anymore; the tears had stopped and her tear ducts were completely dry. Without blinking, she grabbed the chicken off of the kitchen counter and stuffed it in the oven. She then proceeded to get the rest of the meal ready - mashed potatoes, corn, and those cheese biscuits that Harry always loved. This was all done the muggle way - the way her father had taught her.

When it was all finished, the meal was served to the two of them.

"Harry, darling, why haven't you touched your plate?" She watched him just sit there and refused to lift his fork. "This isn't like you, honey. Why aren't you eating? Did you have a bad day at work?" Her voice was shaky; the pitch of her voice kept jumping from low to high and high to low.

She sighed.

"Oh, well, I guess I can't force you to eat." She continued to eat what was on her plate before emptying both of their plates in the trash when she was finished. "Let's get you up to bed."

Ginny carried him up the stairs and laid him down on the bed before waving her wand to change him into his pajamas.

"Harry, darling, I am going to read for a little bit. I will be back in a little bit." She fell asleep downstairs whilst reading, and was surprised that she was not awoken in the morning by the sound of Harry apparating for work.

"Is something wrong, dear?" she yelled up the steps. When she did not receive an answer, she decided to take a look to see if he was still up there. He was still sleeping, so she decided not to awake him. He must have told his boss he was taking the day off today. His boss was pretty lenient, so he probably told Harry it was all right, especially since it was Harry Potter.

Around noon when she walked upstairs to the bedroom, she dressed Harry, and took him downstairs with her where she sat him on the sofa in the living room and opened him a butterbeer.

"Talk to me, honey, I can tell something is bothering you." She said this in a very calm, steady, sincere voice. She moved herself closer to where he was sitting and put her arm around him, pulling his head onto her shoulder.

She did this for days. She carried his lifeless body around with her around the house and talked to him about anything and everything, always trying to ask him questions before answering them for him. Nothing seemed odd about it to her. She looked like a complete train wreck, and had not showered in days. Her hair was oily, and stuck out to all sides of her head. She wore no makeup, and wore the same clothes for five days straight, not even bothering to change when she slept.

Ding-dong.

"Oh my, Harry! We have a visitor! I wonder who it is," she spoke out loudly to Harry. She hopped up from her seat gleefully and sprinted to the door. It was Hermione and Ron. "Hermione! Ron! Why don't you two stay for dinner with Harry and I tonight? Wouldn't that be fantastic?"

"Sure, Ginny," Ron answered, surprised at how excited his sister was at the prospect of having dinner with the two of them. They stepped inside the house.

The stench. Oh, the stench. It smelled like everything in the house was decomposing. But, with Hermione's knack for knowing a million different spells, she managed to use one that halted their ability to smell. She also wondered if Ginny had done the same thing. Everything was beginning to seem very odd.

"Make yourself at home, guys! Take a seat next to Harry!" Harry was sitting on the couch. Upon sitting down next to him, Ron tried to make conversation with his best friend.

"Hey, Harry, you feeling alright lately? You haven't shown up to work. We've all been worried sick about you," he said, patting his friend on the back.

No response. Harry didn't even move a muscle.

"Hermione, I think something is wrong with Harry. Maybe he's sick."

"Or maybe he's dead," Hermione responded, grabbing Harry's wrist. "Yep, no pulse. That's what that horrible smell was when we got here, and that's why Ginny was acting so strange when we arrived. Your sister has gone completely insane, Ron. I hate to break it to you. She thinks Harry is still alive. She is the quintessential case of being in denial."

"Maybe she just refuses to believe he's dead. What should we do?"

"We have to pretend he's alive as well for the rest of the night. We don't want to do anything too rash, or else it will push her over the edge. When we leave tonight, we'll call your parents. They'll know what to do." The look on Hermione's face was more serious than Ron had ever seen, and Ron's face was as pale as a ghost.

When dinner was ready, they all sat around the table.

"Ron, can you help Harry sit down? He's not feeling too well lately," Ginny told him.

"Of course, Ginny." Ron grabbed Harry under the arm and carried his limp body over to a chair around the table. Ron did not eat in his normal manner that night. Instead of stuffing his face with food, he ate rather slowly, and had a lot of food left on his plate when he was finished. He was too busy thinking about Harry. He couldn't believe his best friend was dead, and could not imagine how it had happened. After everything Harry had gone through and survived, Ron thought that Harry was immortal. He thought that Harry would have at least outlived him. He stared at Harry at the end of the table. His body was limp in the chair, and his mouth wide open. The plate in front of Harry was untouched. Ron couldn't believe this would be his last memory of his friend.

"Harry, honey, you haven't eaten in days. What's gotten into you?" Ginny turned to look Harry in the eyes, a really worried look on her face. "You need to eat something."

"He can't, Ginny," Ron blurted out across the table.

"What? What do you mean?"

"He's dead, Ginny. He's definitely dead. Listen, I'm very apathetic for your loss --"

"Empathetic is the word, Ron," Hermione interrupted, scared of what might now happen.

"Empathetic. Empathetic for your loss, Ginny. But you have to admit this to yourself. Only you know what happened to him. If somebody killed him, you have to say something, so that something can be done about it. Please, Ginny, this is killing you. It's eating you up inside, I can tell. You are my baby sister," Ron pleaded with her.

"He's not dead, Ron." Tears began streaming down her face for the first time in days.

"Ginny, Ron is right. You need to just say it. Harry is dead. You're not. You still have your life to worry about. I know it is going to be hard without him here. We will all miss him. But at the end of it all, we will join him once again. That's all you have to think about. The first step is to just admit to your self that he's dead. If you can't do that, then your health will just begin to deteriorate under the stress that your mind is putting on your body," Hermione began helping Ron in trying to persuade Ginny to just admit it.

"I want to be with him now, though." Ginny collapsed in her chair. The tears were heavier than they had ever been in her life, rolling down in droplets. "I can't go on without him here."

"Yes you can, Ginny. Trust us! You have us here for you! You have Mum and Dad! We are all here for you! We are sad as well. We all loved Harry." Ron's eyes were beginning to well up with tears. Hermione was already crying, almost as heavily as Ginny.

"No, Ron, you don't understand. I can't go on without him." Ginny was becoming angry, and the tears suddenly stopped, as they had when Harry had died. Her eyes were wide open, and she could not even blink. "I have to be with him now," she said, her voice was crackling; the pitch of her voice was alternating inconsistently, low to high, and high to low.

She raised her wand and pointed it at her own heart. It was beating very quickly, anticipating being reacquainted with its soul mate. It could not go on beating without its other half; the two hearts were perfect matches. Their beating was synchronized, and dependent on one another. They must be reunited, forever and always.

"Ginny, no!"

Her eyes were shut, and her palm was sweaty, clutching her wand with all her might. This was it. Her heart had a mind of its own, and right then and there it was in control of everything she did.

"Avada Kedavra!" Ginny yelled at the top of her lungs.

Her heart stopped; it was once again beating with Harry's. Her wand fell to the floor, and she fell beside it, her mouth wide open and her eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.

She was with Harry now, her one true love. Forever, and always.