Forget - Me - Not

Every day was the same for her; she woke up in the morning at half past ten and lay in bed until noon. At noon, she got out of bed and went downstairs, her bare feet padding on the floorboards, dust rising around her as she disturbed its' sleep.

Breakfast was lunch as well; she ate a bagel with cream cheese. If she was very hungry, then a slice of bacon cooked in the pan would be added to the plate. After this small meal, she would wash; splashing icy cold water over her face and trying not to look in the mirror.

Her red hair, which she had once taken such good care of, brushed every day, now hung in limp strands down to her waist. She was much thinner than she had been in Hogwarts, her arms and legs like sticks. Her rib bones could be seen in the pale light from the window.

The house was always empty now, with him gone to the wars and her baby daughter dead. She never bothered to dress or wear any clothing. A fire was lit in every room; half of them she didn't ever go in. Sometimes, she would toy with the idea of putting out the unused fires and locking the rooms that she never went in. But she never did, never changed her simple, everyday life.

After eating, she would go to the window that looked out over the hills and down to the gates. There she would sit, hoping and hoping to see a messenger or and owl to tell her the fate of her beloved Harry.

They had been stupid to marry. It had been a whim, a spur of the moment with their laughter in a church. There were no flowers or pretty dresses like she'd wanted in her girlhood dreams. Harry had promised her a real wedding after the war was done, with everything she ever wanted.

Their daughter had been born nine months to the day that they were married. On that same day, Harry left with tears in his eyes to join the fighting. For a while, she lived with her daughter and the house elves.

Then her daughter, beautiful little Georgina, died. She had been such a pretty little baby, her green eyes flashing like her father's. After the funeral, she withdrew into herself. The house elves were ordered to leave. Harry's letters were less and less frequent.

Georgina had died two years ago; from Ginny's window seat she could see the little gravestone under the apple tree that had been their favourite place to sit and giggle in the sunshine. Suddenly, she saw what she had been waiting for. A dark shape was coming towards the house.

Her messenger, the messenger, at last, at last.

She ran to their bedroom and threw on some grey robes. They hung off her shoulders limply. Her hands were shaking as she ran down the stairs, running to the huge doors at the main entrance. As she turned the key, the knock came, loud and insistent.

She flung back the door and tried to welcome the man, but all she looked at was the letter in his hand.

He handed it to her, she tore open the envelope, raced her fingers through the red wax seal. Teeth chattering from the sudden bitter coldness of the wind, she wrenched out the letter. It was from Harry.

Dearest Ginny

If you are reading this, then I am dead and the dark lord is conquered. I wrote this letter several weeks before I had to venture into the darkest places to find and destroy him. I left this letter with instructions to send it to you if I died in my task.

I'm sorry I never came back for Georgina's funeral. I want to say that I truly loved, and still love you. I always thought of you. If I died with a smile on my face, it was a smile for you.

All my love - Harry.

Ginny stood still for a moment, before thanking the messenger and closing the door. Then, when she heard him go, she sunk down to the floor and sobbed, the tears flowing down her thin, thin cheeks.