I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JKR.

DH Spoilers

I found refuge in a quiet, empty hallway. It was dirty, yes, and dusty, but it was the only place that the battle had not reached, the only place where I could sit and refuse to believe the truth, because the truth was too hard, too final.

Fred, my older brother, was already dead. His body lay in the Great Hall, unseeing, a slight smile on his empty face. Lupin and Tonks, two members of the Order, were also dead. They too lay in the Great Hall, destined to be together forever, husband and wife who would never know their infant son.

However, none of this amounted to the fact that soon Harry too would be among the dead. His once lively body would become cold and lifeless, and I would never again have the chance to talk to him, to hug him, to be with him. The cold hard truth of the matter wasn’t that Harry would die, but that he was giving himself up to save the rest of us, the ones who fought for him.

I knew this only because he’d told me. I’d been unable to stop him, unable to keep him from walking into the forest that held the man who wanted to kill him more than anything. I’d been unable to convince him to let me go with him, because anything would be better than being here, being in the castle, being faced with the truth.

I wondered what he was thinking, right before it happened. What was he feeling? Was he alone, accompanied only by the jeering and laughing of the Death Eaters who would ultimately witness his downfall? Did I cross his mind at all? Did my face flash in his eyes along with the stroke of green light? I doubted it, but somehow it made me feel better, knowing that he might have been comforted by something before his final moments.

A moth flew across my face, startling me. It flew up, towards the high ceiling, and brought other thoughts to me. What was waiting for Harry? Would his mother and father be there at the end of the tunnel? Perhaps even Dumbledore would be there to welcome him to the afterlife. He deserved to see all of them, to be with those who were stolen from him before he was ready to let them go.

Truth be told, I was not ready to live without him. I was not ready to let myself live without him here beside me. It hurt to think that, even if I made it, there was nothing that I could do to ensure his survival. Absolutely nothing. The dice had been cast.

A cold, hard voice that sent shivers down my spine echoed through the castle, and before I even heard a word I felt a stake of misery go through my heart. It had happened. It was over. I was over, forevermore.

“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone…” *

My tears came think and hard. Harry was dead. There was no way around it; he was never coming back to me. Any hope that I’d had moments before, that Harry would somehow find a way around death or some kind of escape route, was shattered. My ears started pounding as my head spun. The voice that surely belonged to Voldemort continued on, but I didn’t listen anymore. I couldn’t.

Slowly, I got to my feet. I had to see him one last time before Voldemort disposed of his body. My feet led me out to the Great Hall, where people with confused and startled looks on their faces were looking around with apprehension.

“Ginny!”

Hermione’s voice sounded strangely vague and distant. She approached me with a terrified look on her face. Her mouth was moving, talking to me, but her words flew past me. I nodded blankly, and without another word we walked out of the Great Hall.

The first thing I saw when I entered the grounds was the pale, moon white figure that was Voldemort. Around him stood the Death Eaters, some of which had their wands pointed at Hagrid, who was sobbing loudly.

In Hagrid’s arms was the familiar figure of a bespectacled black-haired boy with an unusual scar etched into his forehead. Hermione and Ron began to run ahead of me, but my legs suddenly felt like jelly.

“No!”

“No!”

“Harry! HARRY!” I cried. It was worse than I ever could have imagined. I ran forward, and the remainder of the survivors started yelling and crying as well, until a powerful silencing charm forced silence on us all.

My eyes stayed on Harry, on his broken figure. I wanted to run and grab him, but I found that my legs were frozen. I wished that I could have run and screamed and done whatever I could to bring him back, but I knew in my heart that he was gone.

I melted into the ground, not caring that it was dirty, not caring that both my enemies and my friends could at any moment trample me. I didn’t care that I could be killed. I stayed where I had fallen, crumpled in a little ball, and closed my mind to the outside world. Nothing could penetrate my fortress. I closed my eyes.

The rest of the battle was a blur. Even years later, I could not remember much.

I remember fighting for my life. I remember cursing Death Eaters with such ferociousness that it surprised even myself. I remember dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange, and being saved from certain death by my mother. I remember the look in Bellatrix’s eyes when she knew that she was defeated once and for all. I remember flashes, but not much else.

The entire time I fought to stay alive, my mind was elsewhere. Focused on my memories, on mine and Harry’s first kiss, on the times we’d spent together over the summer…

Suddenly, a familiar voice caught my attention. The voice, ringing with both defiance and bravery, broke through the loud hall with surprising ease. And then, without any further ado, Harry pulled off his cloak, exposing himself.

Several cries of, “He’s ALIVE!” echoed momentarily, but they stopped almost instantly.

My heart caught in my throat, making me incapable of speech. The rest of the hall was silent as well, but for a different reason. Harry had held up his hand, his eyes focused only on Voldemort, a firm and determined look on his face.

All the wounds in my heart healed instantly. I felt together and whole, a feeling I had missed in the time since my last goodbye. I had not realized how empty I had felt before, but the realization of how complete I felt now made those few hours seem especially long and painful.

Harry and Voldemort argued, mentioning the Horcruxes several times, as well as something called an Elder Wand. I didn’t understand much of it, but I didn’t care.

My Harry was alive. He was there, he would be there for me forever. He would be there to hold me, to hug me, whenever I felt down. He would be there, by my side forever.

Harry was alive.