After they told her, Ginny refused to speak to anyone. It was her way of mourning him. Soon her magic grew too weak to cast spells. It was because of her broken heart, they all said. They were right, of course, her heart was broken but she never told them the real reason why.
When she continued to be silent her parents called in the best Healers in Britain. None of them could find anything wrong with her. She didn’t care for their attempts to cure her – there was nothing wrong in the first place.
There were many visitors but none were the one person she wanted to see. He would never be able to visit her again. They worried for her health but physically she was fine, it was her lack of speech that was the anomaly. She refused to communicate in writing either.
For a time she opened the letters, simply reading them once before putting them away. After a while she couldn’t even bring herself to open them. None were from him. Her sparkling chocolate eyes had grown lifeless. She was a living shell of the person she used to be.
“The pain will get better in time,” they kept telling her, but it didn’t; it only got worse with each passing day.
She would never laugh, snort, or cry out in pain. There was no noise from her of any kind. Sometimes she would be tempted to yell at them all, to tell them to leave her alone. Then she remembered her love, remembered that she would never again hear his voice and it seemed like a small price to pay for her to stay silent.
For years she persisted in her silent existence. Her parents would worry over her and her brothers all looked at her with pity in their eyes. She still lived with her parents, unable to take care of herself in a magical world without her magic.
Many times she visited the place where he was laid to rest, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Even then she did not make a sound. She had known he was dead before they even told her. It had felt as if a part of her soul was being ripped away from inside of her chest.
On the seven year anniversary of the day that Lucius Malfoy had killed his son, she felt compelled to offer an explanation for her actions. A memorial dinner for Harry was to be held. Everyone celebrated that day as a great holiday. It was the day Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort for good and was also killed in the process. He was a hero to the Wizarding World.
But that was not what Ginny Weasley remembered on that day. She would forever know it as the day her lover had been killed, the secret love of her life and her soul mate. Her father happily drove his Ford Anglia into London so that she could attend the Celebration Ball.
“To remember Harry,” was the reason they all assumed she wanted to attend.
She didn’t even bother to correct them. Her father, the new Minister for Magic, made a lovely speech that had everyone on their feet. If anyone thought it odd that Ginny Weasley had dressed in a black Muggle dress, well, they didn’t say anything.
When her father was finished she met him on the magical stage, secretly swapping their wands while he wrapped her in a loving embrace. To everyone’s surprise she then stepped towards the podium at the centre of the stage. The whole room was silent. They unconsciously scooted closer to the stage so that they could hear her.
As Ginny scanned the waiting crowed with her eyes she noticed several of her own school mates. Her eyes fell upon two people in the back and she gathered her strength, looking right into the eyes of Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape.
She didn’t use a Sonorus spell. Some might have thought her voice would be hoarse from disuse, but it was completely the opposite. It was almost as if she had been saving her voice for this very speech for the last seven years. She wasn’t trying to shout, but in the silence of the room her words were deafening.
“Draco Malfoy was a good man. He cared deeply for his family. He made a hard choice and he paid the price with his life. He was only one of many others who made the same choice and paid the same price. Yes, Harry was a hero, but he was not the only one who died that day. Draco Malfoy was also a hero and… I loved him.”
When she left the room no one followed. The security was lax but the guards she did encounter were quickly disposed of. The long-gone magic buried deep within her seemed to surge forth one last time.
With the Minister’s wand it was easy to enter the Department of Mysteries. Though it had been some time since her last visit her feet knew the way automatically. When she opened the plain black door and stepped into the circular room she felt a rush of power; she was so close now.
After opening doors to the Hall of Prophecy and the Time Room she was finally rewarded with the door she had been searching for. The Death Chamber was exactly as she remembered it from before.
She followed the steep stone steps all the way down to the sunken pit in the middle of the room. The archway looked just as she remembered it, the Veil fluttering in a non-existent wind. She climbed the steps leading up onto the dais slowly. For a moment she just stood there expectantly. The silence in the room was deafening.
Then the Veil began to flutter erratically. Voices from beyond the Veil called out to her. She closed her eyes and listened for the one voice she had been hoping to hear. All of the other voices fell away and one louder voice stood out from the rest.
“Ginny,” it whispered, carrying to her ears.
It sounded like sweet enchanted music to her soul. Her heart began to beat wildly. She almost felt whole again. Just one more step and she would be reunited with her lover. For her there was no choice. She threw her father’s wand onto the dais. When it was found they would know what she had done but she didn’t care about anyone else; she hadn’t cared about anything for seven years.
He was calling out to her again and Ginny Weasley smiled. Without hesitation her feet carried her forward until her whole body had slipped beyond the Veil and the room was silent once more.
This site belongs to Anise and Lyndsie. Anise and Lyndsie do not own any of the characters featured in these stories, much as we would like to. The characters actually belong to JK Rowling and assorted large corporations who make a profit from their efforts, which is another important difference between us. We're not affiliated with them, we don't make any money, and suing us would be silly as we don't have any money.
All stories archived are the property of their respective authors, and plagiarism is a big big nono. Any further questions, suggestions,
tribute, complaints, or snide comments can be forwarded to