Ginny Weasley stood by the window of the Burrow, tears running down her face.

He had been strong. Even in his last moments he had been so strong. Ginny hadn’t been there, and it broke her heart into sharp shards that punctured her lungs to know that she hadn’t been there.

Was he dead? Nobody knew for sure. The Prophet had reported that he was dead, but she had never trusted the Prophet.

Wherever he was, Ron was with him. Ron would follow Harry wherever he went, and Hermione would have, too, if she had been there. But she wasn’t. Hermione was in the battle, it was true. However, she had been killed slowly and painfully when the Death Eaters had trapped her in the Hogwarts library with an enchantment so nobody could get in or out. There had been no sound from the room-- no screams. The silence was almost worse than the screams Ginny had been expecting. But there had only been the smell of the books burning, all those books that Hermione loved burned to ashes that mixed with hers. Ginny would never forget the sight of the library after the battle, but worse was the look on Ron’s face as he was held in place outside the library next to Ginny while Hermione burned. That was the other reason he had gone with Harry. He had no one else.

“You had me!” Ginny wanted to scream at him, but he was not there to be screamed at. There were very few people there at all. Molly had died a hero’s death as she placed herself in between a killing curse and Fleur. Not that it had mattered. Fleur and Bill were dead too, leaving their infant son in Ginny’s care. Ginny had been named the godmother of tiny baby Percy, a name given to him by his mother after the murder of his namesake. They called him Perry, but the baby would never again hear his parents call his name.

Charlie had lived long enough to set dragons on Death Eaters, but a blast of fire had missed his target. Fiery deaths were beginning to seem the norm to the nearest and dearest of Ginny Weasley.

Fred and George, as well as her father, had been murdered in their beds as they hid at the joke shop. The Death Eaters were hunting down the Weasley family, trying to find Harry and Ron and killing when they were unsuccessful. Now there was only Ginny and Perry left, and she had no doubt they would come for her soon. Very soon. She did not know if they would strike tonight, but she knew that they would kill. She did not know where Harry and Ron were. But she wished she did. Merlin, she wished she did.

Perry began to wail from his crib in the kitchen. Sighing and wiping her tears, Ginny went over to attend to him. What she saw made her heart stop. Standing above the baby’s crib was Tom Riddle, the sixteen year old Tom she had known in the Chamber of Secrets. She was older than him now. Taller than him. But she was still shaking as she pulled her wand out of her robes and pointed it at the boy’s back, ready to speak a curse as he turned.

“Ginny,” he said, smiling that charming smile he had. “It has been far too long.”

“You’re gone,” Ginny whispered, not lowering her wand. “Harry destroyed you five years ago.” Tom just laughed.

“Surely you don’t think you can destroy a memory, Ginny!” His laugh was hissing, like a snake, a laugh that stopped as suddenly as it had started. “Your fool Dumbledore made sure to remember that I was Tom Riddle first. When he died, my memory escaped him and manifested itself in a real form.” Tom smiled. “A Horcrux would have been easier, but since Harry never destroyed all of them I should still be able to manage. What a coward of a boy!”

Those words Ginny wouldn’t take. “Stupefy!” She screeched, and a jet of red light shot out of her wand and straight at Tom. He blocked it lazily, but while he was distracted she grabbed Perry and darted up the stairs, clutching the boy in her arms. She couldn’t Apparate in the house…She had to get out somehow… He blocked the doors… Had to get out…

Ginny could hear footsteps behind her as she ran into her room and slammed the door after her. Tom didn’t bother with the doorknob as the door fell forward in a blast of timber. Ginny shielded Perry as the debris fell. Tom strode into the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You cannot escape,” he said, mocking her. “So would you like to die before the boy… or shall I spare you, and kill him?” Ginny stared. This couldn’t be happening. She was only seventeen. Harry had told her how his mother had died. Could Perry, too, be part of the twisted prophecy?

She had to save Perry. Fleur had put Perry into Ginny’s arms before even Molly was able to hold him. Ginny had fallen in love all over again. It was the same feeling she got when Harry looked at her-- that overwhelming sense of love that would never, ever end.

Yes, Perry had to live. But so did Ginny. Because she knew in her heart of hearts that Harry was somewhere, and that he wasn’t dead. She would have known if he was. They were connected.

Lily had saved Harry, but he had lived a life of misery. Ginny saw it in his eyes. The pain whenever his parents were brought up was more than words for Ginny. Perry had no parents. But he had Ginny. And Perry was the only family Ginny had left. But Perry needed Harry and Ron too. He needed an uncle, and he needed… Ginny felt her heart flutter. Perry needed a father, and Ginny needed Harry. He was her life now, and she couldn’t turn back. This was it. It was the choice. Lily’s mistake. There was always a third choice.

“I choose life!” Ginny shouted, and with a shriek that shook the heavens themselves she screamed the one word that Harry had instilled into the house on a cold winter’s night, just in case. “Caeda!” The house crumbled around them, Ginny and Perry were outside of the Burrow, and Ginny was running with the child in her arms.

Tom would keep pursuing her. She needed to find Harry, so that together they could defeat Voldemort. Ron would be with them, and Hermione’s presence would be wherever they went. She was never far from Ron’s thoughts when she was alive. Now Ginny doubted a moment went by where he didn’t think of her, wherever she was.

She turned back one last time to look at the Burrow and saw the Dark Mark over the house. That was it, then. No turning back. Perry was watching the scene with awe. Ginny smiled at the boy. He would make the journey difficult, but she would not leave him. She would not let this child be raised without love.

But now was a time for the present, not the future. She had to find Harry and Ron before Tom did. But unlike Tom, she knew exactly where to look.

“Hold on, Perry,” Ginny whispered, “We’re going for a little ride.” And then the two were gone, leaving no trace they had ever been there.