The Burrow, a place that Ginny Weasley had always considered to be safe, came to symbolize all that she’d wished to leave behind. It was at the Burrow, exactly two years before, that he had said his goodbyes.
Everyone had treated him like some sort of hero, as if this act was merely characterized by bravery. Yet, she’d never understood why exactly he’d had to shut everyone out. He’d left them all that summer, leaving behind the only ones he had. After all the tragedy he'd endured, all the loss, he still hadn't come to the realization that his friends were the ones he needed most. She was the one he needed most.
It was as if after everything he’d been through, he’d been scared to hold on any longer. When she was fifteen years old, he’d broken up with her, claiming he had to go on alone and that it was for her own good. He’d always underestimated the ones he loved, feeling as though he had to protect them above all else. As broken hearted as she’d been, she knew that over the next year, they would remain friends. And they did.
After waiting for so long, for so many years, she'd lost him. Although they'd only been together for a short amount of time, she'd come to trust him. He hadn't been like the other boys. He never had been one to stray upon normality. She knew this before they'd even gotten together. Despite that, she'd waited.
She watched as he wasted time on Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenclaw girl far too traumatized for a relationship. She'd been his friend. Yet, after all they'd been through together, she couldn't help but savor the times they'd had with one another.
It was on her seventeenth birthday, right in the midst of summer, that he’d run away for good. The memory, despite her better efforts, remained etched within her mind. She hadn’t seen him in over two years. She wasn’t even sure if he was alive. All she had left to live on was his memory.
As the embers of the dying light hit his face, she could tell he was there to deliver news. She had been hoping, praying, that perhaps he’d merely wanted to personally wish her happy birthday, yet she knew it wasn’t the case.
They were friends, nothing more. Not that she hadn’t hoped he would realize that his noble act wasn’t going to work for her. He’d remained oblivious to the pain she’d been feeling for the past year.
And now, on her seventeenth birthday, the day she finally became a woman in society, he was going to tell her something that could very well turn her entire life to hell. Yet, she was prepared.
As she shifted her bare foot in the grass, nervously fidgeting and anticipating his words, she watched her brother and Hermione in the distance. How was it that the two of them could make things work, but she and Harry were destined to remain alone? Her normally soft, friendly brown eyes grew envious, awaiting the sound of his voice.
“Gin, I don’t want things to be like this,” he had told her, unable to look her straight in the face.
“Like what, Harry?” she inquired. “Unresolved?”
Reluctantly, he nodded, running a hand through his unruly black hair anxiously. It was a habit he’d grown accustomed to, finally overcoming the restraint he'd once held.
“I have to go,” he told her softly, trying to remain strong for the both of them. “I have to go and find him, Ginny, to settle it once and for all.”
“Why you, Harry? Why does it have to be you?” she had asked him bluntly. “Why is it that you have to go? What am I supposed to do without you?”
As he cupped her chin in his hand, hoping to look upon things optimistically, she couldn’t help but shake her head in protest.
“You’ll manage, Ginny,” he told her. “You have so many people in this world that care about you. I’ll be lucky if you even miss me at all.”
For a moment, she’d wanted to agree with him. Why was it that she constantly let herself remain vulnerable in his presence? She didn’t take anything from anyone else, but what was it about him that made things different? She’d once thought it was love, but now, she realized she’d been foolish.
“I’ll come back for you, Gin,” he told her. “I promise you, I’ll come back.”
“When, Harry? After you kill all the Death Eaters? After you seek revenge on Bellatrix and Peter Pettigrew? After You-Know-Who is finally done in?” she asked him. “I know you, Harry. You won’t rest until they’re all dead. When will that be? And how am I to know you’ll be alive to come back to me?”
“You have to trust me, Ginny,” he told her, grabbing her small hand to provide reassurance. “And I’ll trust you as well. I trust that you’ll get over me, you’ll move on, and you’ll make a life for yourself. You won’t dwell on my departure. Instead, you’ll find comfort in understanding why I have to do this. You do know me, Ginny. So, please, trust me.”
“Don’t leave,” she demanded, her voice straying as far away from plead as it could.
“You know I can’t do that,” he whispered, dropping her hand and eyeing the Burrow in the distance.
As he turned, his eyes resting on hers, she knew that if she ever were to see him again, things would never be the same. It was too late for them.
As she sat up in bed, her skin glistening with beads of sweat and her fingers trembling, she shook her head of vivid red hair, attempting to shake the memory from her body. She gently rapped the wooden floorboard with her bare foot, a nervous habit she'd acquired over the years. He was always with her, always a part of her. Why was it that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t relieve herself of him? The nightmares had become an ongoing ritual for her, a part of her hoping to be empty, another desperately dreaming to be whole.
He had become unforgettable, impossible, stubborn even in his absence. She longed desperately to move on, but knew it was useless to pray such things.
You never forget your first love..
She turned her head, her body still facing the other way, to see the body sprawled on the other side. The moonlight crept in through a crack in the window, resting on his blonde hair and pale body.
She’d found someone to distract her, someone who promised to take care of her. He was there as proof, proof that she could get over Harry.
Her family disapproved, of course, but it wasn’t their choice. Something about the look in his pale, gray eyes indicated change. He hadn’t entirely reformed, but somehow, he’d overlooked the bad blood between their two families.
The two of them had been together for a year, six months after his release from Azkaban. She'd never imagined she'd be with Draco Malfoy, a man dedicated to antagonizing her family, her beliefs, her soul mate..
Yet, something inside of her had been aching for him. At first it had been spite, but now, he was all that she had. After two years, all she was left with was a Malfoy.
And now, he believed he had taken what had once been Harry Potter’s.
But, the truth was, he’d never have her.
This story is being written by five authors on a site called Beyond The Veil. Please review.