“Avada Kedavra!”

 

Harry braced himself for the inevitable curse that was flying towards him. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. For hours he had been dueling with Voldemort, but he felt as if he had no strength left, all of it had been zapped out of him from the sheer concentration and skill it took to stay alive in the fight. He was using his last reserves of energy, but he didn’t know how long they would last. He could never win. Voldemort was too strong, too powerful. As that last thought raced through his mind, Harry heard a loud, high pitched scream that was stopped suddenly. He stopped in his tracks and felt like he had been doused in ice-cold water. He knew that voice. He whirled round and felt his stomach leave his body. Lying sprawled out on the muddy floor, eyes glazed over, gazing into oblivion, was Ginny.

 

Her red hair was splayed out across the stone floor, contrasting with her white, delicate skin. A single cut grazed her left cheek, a drop of blood was slowly trickling down her pale skin…he couldn’t believe what had just happened, what Voldemort had just done. Anger overwhelmed him, taking control of his actions with unstoppable, savage force. The earth quaked and the rocks around him started to tumble and smash. The anger fuelled a power inside him that he didn’t know he possessed, gushing through his veins then spurting out in all directions. The grief from his lost loved ones made him feel like he would explode. He wanted to hurt Voldemort, wanted him to understand just an ounce of what he was feeling.

 

“You-you, I’LL KILL YOU!” he bellowed, feeling angrier than he had ever felt in his life. With that roar, the amount of falling rocks multiplied, the noise was unbelievable. All of Voldemort’s concentration was on moving the rocks away from himself. Hatred and rage was radiating off Harry.

 

“Crucio!” Harry snarled, and he watched as Voldemort fell to the floor and writhed in agony. He laughed. He knew what Voldemort was feeling, the white hot pokers tearing into his body, the utter torture of the curse. Harry grinned evilly as he watched him twitch and spasm. He laughed manically as he listened to the cold blooded wizard scream. Finally, he lifted the curse, leaving Voldemort to lie on the stone floor, panting and shaking. With his last ounce of strength and all of what he was feeling, he yelled “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

 

Harry’s eyes were blurred with tears, so he didn’t see the jet of green light hit Voldemort.  He didn’t see the most evil and feared wizard of all time crumple into a heap on the ground. All he cared about was Ginny. Instinctively, he turned around and rushed to her, ignoring the agonizing pains of his own. The cave stopped shaking, the last few cracked and crashed to the ground. One particularly large stone tumbled onto Voldemort; crushing him with a sickening crunch. Harry didn’t care; he didn’t even look. Kneeling by Ginny’s limp body, he desperately hoped that the spell had missed her. But it hadn’t. He could see the glassy look in her eyes that he knew only too well. Dumbledore, Cedric, Lupin, Moody. Hot, angry tears rolled down his face and the salt stung the fresh cuts. It was his entire fault. He should have stayed away from her, kept her away from harm. It was all his fault. He vaguely registered two sets of thundering footsteps approaching him, but he was too drained to look up. He felt so lifeless, but knew he would not be able to sleep for days. Waves of tiredness washed over him, but he fought against it.

 

“Harry! What happened, did yo-” Hermione cut herself off with a gasp.

 

“No, no, please she’s not!” Harry heard a voice he knew as Ron, cry. Black spots began to dance in front of his eyes. The spots grew and grew, and he was sucked into the darkness.

 

_____________________________

 

Harry’s eyes snapped open. All around him was white and he felt extremely disorientated. He groaned and tried to move, but found that his body felt unnaturally heavy. Straining his eyes, he looked down at his body. Without his glasses, everywhere looked fuzzy, but he was able to make out that he was quite heavily bandaged. For a moment, he wondered why. Then the previous events hit him with the force of a thousand Hippogriffs. Voldemort. Ginny. The cave.

 

He felt sick.

 

“Harry! You’re awake!” a female voice exclaimed, sounding extremely relieved. His vision was still blurry, but Harry was just able to make out someone with ginger hair leaning over him. His heart skipped a beat. Ginny! Then someone put his glasses on him and everywhere sharpened. Ron and Hermione were standing round him. Ginny was not there. His stomach turned.

 

“How are you feeling?” Ron asked. There were red rings around his eyes, telling Harry that he had been crying and not sleeping. Then he asked the question that he was most dreading, with the answer he didn’t want to hear…

 

“Where’s Ginny?” he croaked. It hurt to speak. His throat felt as if it was on fire. Harry looked at the two of them and could tell what the answer was even before Hermione spoke.

 

“She’s…she’s dead.”

 

The whole world shattered and broke. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, Hermione was crying and Ron was shaking. But Harry didn’t care. He just felt numb. He leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.

 

“It’s all my fault,” Harry whispered hoarsely as he lifted his head back up.

 

“It’s not your fault,” Hermione said quietly.

 

“Yes it is! I should have stopped her, stayed away then-” Harry was cut off when Ron spoke.

 

“No it’s not! Stop blaming yourself!” Ron almost shouted, his eyes full of unshed tears. Harry looked at him again. He was paler than Harry had ever seen him and he was shaking severely, but he couldn’t bring the words out of his mouth to comment. He just wanted Ginny back. Suddenly, a Healer rushed in and despite Harry’s protests, poured some dreamless potion down his throat. Instantly, he fell into a deep sleep.

 

When Harry woke up again, he was all alone. The pain in his legs had subsided, but the agony in his chest was still clawing at his heart, making the smarting in his legs and arms seem miniscule. Not bothering about the pain, he sat up and then swung his feet out of the bed, wincing as the pressure from the cold floor sent shots of pain through his body. He stood up and hobbled to the bathroom, limping as he walked. He went to the toilet and then came back out again. He glanced around at the walls and the room with no real feeling. Light was trickling in from the open window in an almost cheerful manner. Harry felt as if the weather was mocking him. Anger surged through him again and he clenched his fists. He didn’t hear the door open quietly and two people come in.

 

“Harry!”

 

Hermione and Ron rushed over to him and Hermione forced Harry back into bed. He glared at the whitewashed walls around him and felt as if the anger and hurt he was feeling would never go away. He looked at the table next to him with cards on it and felt angry. Whatever he looked at made him mad. He didn’t even know why, it just did. He couldn’t control it. Memories of when Sirius and Dumbledore died came rushing back. All the guilt and grief flooded back. The loss of the both of them was nothing compared to the pain of losing Ginny. He missed everything about her, her smile, her flowing red hair…Merlin, even when she was angry…she was beautiful when she was furious. Her face glowed and looked so alive and radiant, but now she was gone. The fire that was meant to go on forever had been abruptly blown out.

 

Harry looked over at Ron. His first ever friend. They had been there for each other for years, got past every obstacle that stood between them, and came back stronger. Ron had always stood by him, never turning his back on him. Thinking back, the only real argument they had ever had was when Harry was made champion back in their fourth year, but eventually they had made up and it was forgotten about. As he looked at Ron he was reminded of his sister, of Ginny. All the pain that had been boiling back down to a simmer came back in full force. Harry wasn’t sure he would be able to stand it. He got out of the bed again, Hermione trying to stop him.

 

“NO! Hermione, leave me alone! It’s up to me what I do!” he yelled. He walked over to the wall, anger overwhelming him again, consuming him and he punched the wall with all his strength. He let out a gasp of pain as he felt the bones in his hand crack. Blood poured out of the wound and it instantly started to swell. He glared at his bloody hand as if it was his hands fault. Hermione rushed over.

 

“Oh Merlin Harry, why did you do that?” she cried. Harry ignored her. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Another Healer came in and cleaned up his hand with a foul smelling potion that stung and smoked slightly. After that, Harry stormed out of the room and out of the hospital, ignoring Hermione, the Healers and Ron’s protests. He needed to get away, far away. He couldn’t stay there any longer. He stood out into the streets, feeling the cool breeze whipping his face. He watched people walk by, carrying shopping bags and laughing with their friends. He felt outraged that these people were all happy, when life was nowhere near that. Ginny was dead. He couldn’t help her. It was his fault. He repeated it over and over again in his mind, as if it was a ritual, one that he couldn’t stop. Why should people be happy when the most wonderful, beautiful girl in the world was dead, gone, her fire extinguished. Even the bright, sunny weather seemed not to care; it just continued to mock him. He didn’t want to go back inside, he didn’t want to face anyone else. He didn’t know how long he was just standing there, but the next thing he remembered was Mrs. Weasley putting her arm around him and taking away.

 

If he could describe the Burrow as his home.

 

_______________________________

 

Harry looked at himself in the mirror as he put on his black robes. He felt oddly detached from the person looking back at him from the mirror. His eyes were red rimmed; he hadn’t slept since that day. But maybe insomnia was preferable, as whenever he closed his eyes, the image of Ginny in the cave arose again. Who knew what the nightmares would be like?

 

A photo album was left open from his bed, open to the page with a picture of himself and Ginny. It used to be his favourite picture, but now whenever he looked at it, it only caused him pain. He knew only too well of what was lost, what he had lost. In the picture, they both looked so carefree and happy, their eyes shining with happiness and love. It was now gone.

 

“Harry, we have to leave now,” Ron said from the door. His voice sounded muffled and distant. Ever since Harry had left the hospital, he had barely said a word, except for the occasional one to Ron and Hermione, and even those were short and empty. He walked out of the room, not looking at anyone. His footsteps seemed to echo as they walked down the steps. Thud. Thud. Thud. He walked in a rhythm, it seemed like the only normal thing in his life and if he stopped, the whole world would come crashing down. So he kept walking and waking. He walked all the way to the bottom of the garden and back. Over and over again, losing all sense of time and space. Finally, he stopped when a group of people dressed in black started to sit on the chairs in the garden. Harry joined them, sitting next to Hermione. He felt his heart break all over again when he saw her pure white coffin. It was like it was final, that she really wasn’t coming back.

 

Everyone around him was crying, but not a tear fell from Harry’s eyes. He felt empty, soulless. He felt nothing, he was numb. It was as if he was above, watching the scene below him. He could see himself standing on his own, staring vacantly in front. He couldn’t see the sparkle in his eyes anymore. That was gone, as if it had never been there. His eyes, eyes that had once been anymore described as gleaming emeralds, now resembled green stones that had been scratched and coated with filth. He was like an empty shell, a shadow of his former self. So surreal….

 

There was nothing left of him anymore. Ginny was his drive, the reason he kept fighting, but now she was gone. He had had enough. Harry felt as if he would explode, it hurt so much.

 

Everyone that he had ever loved, every shard of happiness had been snatched from him, his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore and now Ginny. He couldn’t believe how much hurt one could feel in one body. He just wanted to crawl into a little ball for the rest of his life, remembering his time with the people he lost, stay in the past when he was happiest. He didn’t want to have to carry on as if nothing had happened. Even thought he wasn’t even twenty, he felt as if he was a hundred, for the things he had seen and the hurt he had felt, they had aged him by decades. He was no longer naïve and carefree, he had never really had a childhood. He had had to grow up fast, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was experiencing now. Voldemort could not have caused him any more pain than he had already caused and it was all because of a prophecy. A stupid prophecy, which could determine his life, his future. He didn’t have any control; something else was pulling his strings. Then a sickening thought entered his mind. Were Ginny, Cedric, and everyone else who had died, been a part of that? Had their purpose in life been to be murdered?

 

Everyone was starting to stand up and leave. Harry didn’t move. After everyone had left, he still didn’t move. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he stood up and walked over to the new grave, the earth still fresh on the top. It was littered with flowers and notes, from family and friends. Harry put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the picture, a red rose, and a small note. He placed it on the grave. He looked at the name: GINERVA MOLLY WEASLEY. SHE WILL BE LOVED AND MISSED FOREVER.

 

He just stared at the spot for a moment, his eyes flitting over the gifts people had left. He knelt down on the grass. Then the tears started to fall. Everything started to pour out in salty drops, all the memories came flooding back in full colour, undimmed, consuming. More tears fell, again and again, his glasses fogging up in the process. Ginny always used to laugh and wipe them for him. Now there was no-one to do that anymore, no one to share his feelings with, no-one to love. He gripped some of the fresh earth in hand, this would be the closest he would ever to be her anymore. She was now six feet under the cold, muddy ground. Angrily, he threw the earth down to the green grass and closed his eyes.

 

“I’ll always love you Harry,” Ginny looking deep into sparkling emerald green eyes. Harry pulled her close and kissed her.

 

If he had known that would be the last time he would ever kiss her, he would have never stopped. If he knew that would be the last time he would ever hold her, he would have never let go, but it was too late now. He desperately tried to hold on to that memory, he hugged himself as though that would keep the memory in him. That was all he had left now, memories. Nothing more.

 

“I’ll always love you too, Ginny,” Harry whispered, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

 

Maybe it was a trick of the wind, but he swore he heard someone say “I love you’ just as a gust of wind passed him. He stood up and walked away. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but knew he would come back, one day. He walked over to the shed and pulled out his trusty Firebolt and mounted it. He took his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and shrugged it over his shoulders. Nestled in his inside pocket was his wallet, containing his bank key, a few galleons and two pictures which he always carried around with him. One was of all Weasley’s, including himself and Hermione, the two almost adopted children. The other one was of his parents and their friends, forever smiling, never knowing the fate that they would suffer. They would go with him, no matter what. They were part of him. Like Ginny, but now she was gone, and so was he. He took one last look at the Burrow and kicked off from the ground and soared away. He was free.

 

A few hours later, Ron and Hermione went searching for him, only to find the note next to Ginny’s grave.

 

Dear Ron and Hermione,

 

Thank you for always being there for me, but I have to go. I don’t know where, all I know is that I can’t stay here. I will be back, one day. Just know that I love you all and am forever grateful. I will never forget you.

 

Harry.

 

Ron and Hermione looked around, as if Harry was suddenly going to appear. But he didn’t. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. The two stumbled back into the house, everything seemed so unreal, like a dream.

 

A nightmare.

 

“Where’s Harry?” Mrs Weasley asked as they walked in.

 

“Gone,” Ron choked, barely able to speak. Hermione was too shocked to answer her, or to say anything. The silence that ensured that statement was deafening, suffocating. The future had never been so uncertain; the world had been turned upside down again.

 

Far away, a shadow of a man was still flying, his hands numb on the broom. Just a few more miles he willed himself, his teeth chattering violently. Just a few more miles…

 

The golden trio was shattered, gone, only a memory now. Maybe one day, Harry would come back and it would be remade.

 

 

Maybe not.

________________________________________________________________________

A/N: It’s strange how much one event could effect so many people, set off chains of events. Love is a powerful thing. Please tell me what you think of this one-shot. I hope you enjoyed it.