A/N: I've been hom sick a lot recently and I have a lot of free time to do nothing but think. And I keep thinking about this guy that I like but he has no idea. So I decided to write this little fic about how you would feel if you never got to tell someone that you love them. I hope you like it

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THE WHITE WAVES ARE CALLING

"Fear not death, for the sooner we die the longer we shall be immortal" -Benjamin Franklin

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They said that Voldemort was immortal. But I proved them wrong. I, Harry Potter, have killed Lord Voldemort; although, I don’t think of him as a lord. He was a despicable coward, yet braver than all. He was an angel of shadows, and a demon of light. But he was not immortal.

I still can’t believe that I killed him. But I have to, or I wouldn’t be lying in this bed, in this hospital. Dying.

It’s not fair that just as I’ve won the war everything has to fall. Voldemort was supposed to fall, not me. Everything’s so wrong. I can’t stand it. I’m lying here, dying, while the rest of the world is out there celebrating the downfall of the most evil wizard ever to live. Why should they get to celebrate? They didn’t kill him, they didn’t help. It was me, all me, and they have no right! They have no right to celebrate while I’m suffering! Don’t they realize what I’ve done for them?! If it weren’t for me they could all be dead!

But now I’m the one that’s going to be dead. I can’t believe that thousands of years of magic can’t save me. The healers don’t know what to do; they don’t know what’s wrong. Nobody does.

Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort cursed me, so that if he died I would too. I didn’t know that was possible. But Dumbledore says that Voldemort could do things we couldn’t even imagine.

I don’t care what that old fool says though. If he’s so wise and powerful, why can’t he help me? Why can’t anyone help me? It’s not fair! I don’t want to die! I’m only seventeen! There’s so much I want to do. I’ve hardly started breathing. I haven’t lived…I haven’t loved.

Love. What is love? Did love protect me through all my hardships and losses? Did love show me the path to my destiny? Did love stop me from dying? No. There is no love. Not for me.

But there’s love for her, lots of love for her. I’ve watched as she’s gone through countless amounts of boyfriends, but I still never tried to make a move. What was I afraid of all this time? Did I really believe that she would reject me? How could she, when I’ve known all along how she felt about me. I was more than just a fling to her. She loved me. But I’ll never see her again.

That thought will haunt me for the rest of my short life, and forever onwards. I will always regret not telling her how I feel about her. Why couldn’t I have just said it? Just walked up to her and said, ‘I love you’? Why?

It’s not like I wasn’t given a chance to. There were all the times over the summers when we were alone at her parents’ house. The times after Quidditch practice when we were the only ones left in the change rooms. The times when we were the only ones in the library at two in the morning, desperately trying to finish the latest piece of potions homework. And the night that could have been my last.

The two of us were serving a detention at the edge of the Forbidden Forest after we decided to have a mud fight in the Gryffindor change rooms following the biggest defeat of Slytherin in history. I’ll never forget the look on Malfoy’s face as I grabbed the snitch from right under his nose. Even after I’m dead, I’ll never forget it, or the sound of the Gryffindors screaming from below. Or the feeling I got as the rest of the team almost squeezed me to death. Or the overwhelming look on Hagrid’s face…

That’s what I’ll remember most about Hagrid. He was like a father to me. He helped me through the darkness, helped me with my burden. He loved me. And he died for me.

If only it wasn’t Hagrid who had been taking our detention that night; if only it had been Filch who had been ordered to watch us as we watered the trees of the outskirts of the forest. If only we hadn’t had that mud fight.

I don’t know what came over me that night in the change rooms. Maybe I was just over-excited about our win. But when I saw you come out of the showers, all freshly washed and in your faded old school robes that I’m so used to, I couldn’t stand not being able to hold your beautiful body in my arms and tell you how much I love you. I reached for my wand and conjured the first mud ball. And the rest is history.

It seems ironic that my love for you is what’s killed me. If we hadn’t had the mud fight we wouldn’t have been doing a detention. And it was a stupid detention anyway! As if the trees needed to be watered! And then Hagrid got fed up with watching us muck about with the hoses. He went off towards his cabin, probably for a bottle of the strongest drink he could find. But he never came back.

We heard him fall. Then our hoses were suddenly turned off. It was deadly quiet. But someone was out there.

‘Hello? Hagrid?’ I called. She tried to stop me. She furiously put her hand over my mouth and shushed me. But it was too late, the damage was done. I’d given away our position, and they were coming for us.

I could sense the danger coming. I should have told her then. It was my last chance to tell her that I love her, but I didn’t take it. My chance for love slipped by, and my survival went with it.

Falling, falling. I couldn’t think straight. I knew that he was out there, coming for me. I stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity and a day when I heard the far off sound of her voice, guiding me back to sense.

‘Run!’ she was screaming, ‘Run! Run!’ we stumbled away from the forest. Towards the castle. There was a great thumping coming from behind me, as if the whole world was chasing after us. There was laughter as well. Maniacal laughter. It was entrancing, hypnotizing. I looked back over my shoulder, and tripped over what I thought was a fallen log. But it was a leg. Hagrid’s leg.

I stared into his lifeless eyes and felt I would never breathe again. He’d killed him. Voldemort had killed him. And now he was going to kill me.

This shocked me back to reality. I got back to my feet and looked around. I had lost all of my sense of direction, and I couldn’t see the girl that I loved anywhere. I hoped that she had gotten back to the castle, safe from them, and from me.

There was laughter coming from somewhere close, and a shiver went up my spine. I didn't even have time to pull out my wand before I was knocked to my feet by an unseen spell. And then the battle began.

It’s all a blur to me now. There were spells going everywhere. I had landed next to Hagrid, and his body protected me like a shield from most of them. If it weren’t for Hagrid I would have died right then.

There were death eaters, lots of death eaters. There was a variety of different creatures as well, but it was too dark to make out what they were. I couldn’t see, only feel.

I could feel the force of the spells that managed to slip past Hagrid’s protective corpse. I could feel the coldness in my blood as a group of dementors drew closer to me. I could feel the dread in my heart that I wouldn’t live to see the light of dawn, and that I would never again see the face of the girl that I loved.

This thought drew strength to me, strength that I never knew I had. I heard his maniacal laughter, much closer this time, and then his face loomed out of the darkness.

I felt that the look on his face would be enough to bring me down. But there was a force running through me, a force made up of all my remaining hopes.

My hands fumbled into my robes and pulled out my wand. I would face Voldemort as a man and die a hero. I wouldn’t die crouching beneath the lifeless body of my oldest and dearest friend, who died at his hands. I would fight for Hagrid. I would fight for my love. I would fight for me.

Voldemort was laughing again. He really believed that he was about to finish me. He was foolish and arrogant. As he was laughing I pointed my wand at him and yelled out the two terrible words that had ended so many lives. And now it would end Voldemort’s.

His laughter turned to a high pitched scream that echoed throughout my body. Now I was screaming too. I was being blinded by a white light, like an explosion. That’s the last I remember.

And then, months later, I wake up here, In St Mungo’s. On my death bed.

I have a private room. At first I got countless visitors, telling me what happened, how I was found lying unconscious on the ground near the forest, Voldemort’s and Hagrid’s bodies forming a twisted circle around me. The death eaters had all fled, and the blinding light had destroyed the dementors.

At first they thought that I was dead as well. But I was alive, only just. Now it’s months later, I don’t know how many, and I’m still only just alive. But I’m not getting better.

And everyone expects me to be happy, and to be celebrating Voldemort’s downfall. But how could I be? I’m going to die! It shouldn’t be me, it should be them! They should all die! This world should be mine!

No. I’m wrong. But I’m right as well. I don’t know anymore. I think I’m going crazy.

Everyone else thinks I’m going crazy too. They’ve all stopped visiting me, even Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore keeps wanting to talk to me though, but I don’t want to see him.
I don’t want to see anyone. Except for her. My love. I lost my last chance to tell her how I feel, but if I could just see her one last time I could die in peace.

Why did I have to keep it a secret all those years? I was so stupid! Now she’ll never know! I can’t bear to think of her at my funeral, barely even shedding a tear and then forgetting about me. What if she married another man? I’d go crazy, I know it!

No. I wouldn’t go crazy. Because I’ll be dead. I’m going to die. I’m going to die alone…

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Later. Still not dead. But it’s only a matter of time. The healers said that it would probably happen soon. Then they left, like the always do. No one ever stays to talk to me anymore. I have no one in this world. I think sometimes that I’ll die of loneliness before I die of this curse. My curse. I’ve been under a curse my whole life. Never free to be myself, to do what I want. Never free to live and to love.

My love. I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish that she would visit me. She came a few times, back when I was still in my coma state. But she never came back. She doesn’t care…

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Later. I think it’s finally happening. I’m dying! I can barely move to press the button that summons the healer, but I wouldn’t even if I could. I don’t want some stranger standing round, watching me die.

I can feel sweat running off my face but at the same time my blood is as cold as ice. I can hear my painfully slow heart, thumping, thumping. Each beat comes slower and slower. My breath keeps catching in my throat. I seem to have lost control of my eyes. The room is a blur.

So this is how I’ll die. Young, cold, crazy, alone. Staring around my empty room, silent except for the sounds of my ragged breathing. I can feel myself drifting away, vanishing forever.

But I’m determined that my last thought will be of her. She’s the only thing that I have left. If I think hard enough I can just make out her blurred outline, appearing at the door to my room, holding a big bunch of white lilies. And now she’s walking towards the bed, the lilies falling to the floor as she gasps in shock.

I must be going crazy. As her hand reaches out to touch my icy cheek I feel its warmth coarse through me. But how can I feel her, she’s not real.

Yes, she is! She’s real, she’s come for me! I can’t believe that she’s here, it can’t be possible! For months - no, years - I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to tell her. I thought I’d lost it. But I’ve been given a last chance. This is it.

I weakly squeeze her hand with my shaking fingers and try to catch my breath. I don’t know if I can do it…

No! I will make it! I have to take this chance, or I’ll regret it for eternity. This is the last thing I want before I die. I try to focus my eyes and I see that she’s looking straight back at me. She’s smiling, but there are tears running down her cheeks. I find that there are tears in my own eyes as well.

I’m about to die. I open my mouth and take my last breath.

‘I love you, Ginny.’

The white waves are calling.

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A/N: What did you think of that? Did it make you sad:(? Or did you just laugh at how ridiculous it is:(?