Ginny Weasley walks slowly down the long aisle of chairs. She can only vaguely see where she is going, her entire body numb. She feels lost until someone takes her arm and steers her towards one of the hundreds of white chairs that have been set out facing a marble tomb and an oak podium. She looks towards the person who is steering her and sees Luna Lovegood next to her. Luna’s bulging eyes are misted over with tears and a single drop falls down her cheek. It suddenly occurs to Ginny that she has never seen Luna cry in all the long years they’ve known each other and now that she has all Ginny wants to do is comfort her; to wipe away that tear and make her feel better.
Before Ginny could so much as lift her arm Luna was sitting in one of the chairs. Ginny just stands there looking down at Luna, feeling like a lost child until the other woman pulls her down into a chair of her own. Ginny notices a young man sitting next to Luna and recognizes him to be Neville Longbottom. He is patting Luna’s hand and has dried her tears. He’s whispering words of comfort in her ear. Ginny watches the couple for a moment before turning away. Her heart is longing to have someone to comfort her, but the only person who could possibly do that is gone. She can’t bring herself to look up at the white tomb so she folds her hands in her lap and stares at them, her head bent. She still can’t believe that he’s gone. When Ron told her, he said that Voldemort was dead. The news about Harry came later…Ginny walked into the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place as Ron was telling the members of the Order that were sitting around the table, “It’s over. Voldemort’s dead.”
Ron looked exhausted; he and Hermione had just gotten back from a secret mission that Harry sent them on. Neither of them would tell anyone what it was.
Ginny stared at them for a moment before her face broke into a grin, “He’s dead? The war is over?”
“Mostly,” Kinglsey Shacklebolt told her, just behind Ron, “Well have to round up all the Death Eaters.”
“This is wonderful!” Ginny exclaimed happily. She looked from Ron, to Hermione and then to the other members of the Order and noticed their somber looks. Hermione was close to tears. “What’s wrong?” she paused and after scanning the kitchen again she noticed one person was missing, “Where…where’s Harry?”
Tears started pouring down Hermione’s face and she left the room sobbing. Ginny saw Fleur Delacoure hurry after her, muffled sobs coming from her direction. Ron looked away from Ginny and she thought she saw his eyes mist over.
“Ron? Where’s Harry?” She repeated.
“Gin…he…” Ron couldn’t finish his sentence, but Ginny was sure she knew what he was trying to say. Ron walked up to her and reached out to her finally finding his voice, “Harry didn’t make it back.”
The ecstasy that Ginny had just felt seemed to leak out of her as if someone had pulled a plug to a drain. “He didn’t make it back.” she repeated, “I…I don’t know what that means.” She did, of course. But she couldn’t admit to herself that he was gone.
Ron ran his hand through his too-long hair and looked behind her, toward their father helplessly. “Ginny, come sit next to me.”
“No.”
“Ginny…”
“Just tell me where Harry is!”
There was an awful, long pause before Arthur Weasley spoke again, “He’s…he’s dead.”
Ginny’s mind went blank, and she slowly shook her head. “No…” she whispered, “that can’t be true.”
She looked around the grimy kitchen to the members of the Order; their looks seemed to confirm what her father had said.
Ginny’s breathing quickened; her entire body seemed to shake. Her eyes pooled with unwanted tears and she could hear someone screaming. They told her later that it had been she who was screaming.
The initial pain Ginny had felt soon disappeared and was replaced with a numbness that wouldn’t go away. Ron had told her it was Bellatrix Lestrange who killed Harry. After Harry had killed Voldemort, Bellatrix – who had been dueling Kingsley nearby – sent a killing curse at Harry from behind. Before anyone could warn him the curse had struck and Harry Potter was dead before his body hit the ground.
She is aware that a man has started to speak; she manages to catch a few words such as “brave” and “noble” and “always will be missed”, but those words are meaningless to her because they are only a small part of the Harry she knew. If she could describe him she would say that he was selfless and loving, and that there was no one else like him in the world. There was so much that she would have said about him…there was so much that needed to be said. Ginny longed for just one more day with Harry to tell him everything she hadn’t said, everything she needed to say.
Before she knew it people were getting up all around her, but she remained in her chair. She heard Luna say something to her, but she didn’t reply. She could remember a similar time to this; one of the last times she had seen Harry. It had been Professor Dumbledore’s funeral and Harry had told her what he was going to do and that he couldn’t be with her anymore. She had known it was coming, but that hadn’t stopped the pain his words had caused. She didn’t let him see her heart breaking; and when he left without turning back the ache in her heart had been almost unbearable. She hadn’t been able to look at him at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and every time she saw him she avoided his gaze. Now she wished she had looked into his eyes, seen those bright green orbs sparkling with happiness.
As the memories consume her, Ginny’s heart aches a hundred fold to what it had ached back then. Ginny looks up; eyes pooled with tears that are ready to spill out at any moment. She tries to blink them away, but they refuse to leave her eyes. The seats in front of her are nearly vacant and the chairs seem to lead her eyes to the tomb. Once her eyes connect with the tomb it seems to draw her to it. She is unaware of standing up and moving towards it, but she ends up standing before it, staring in it and seeing the lifeless form of her love. She reaches out and strokes his hair, pushing it out of his face. Her fingers brush against his icy skin and as her fingers touch him the tears she has been trying to hold in begin to flow down her cheeks. She bends forwards so that her face is inches away from Harry’s and kisses his lifeless lips gently. She lifts her head; her tears have left wet marks on Harry’s face. She watches him for a moment before whispering, “Good-bye, Harry.”