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I Will Always Love You by magical words
Chapter 1 : I Will Always Love You
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 26

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This is a Harry/Ginny One-shot. RECENTLY EDITED!


                                                        I Will Always Love You         
It was moments before he had to leave; mere moments before the end. 

His hands cupped her face sweetly, and with his thumb he gently brushed away a tear that trickled down her cheek. 

“I love you, Gin. I just wanted you to know that. And I will always love you, no matter what.” He kissed her and he fought the urge to let his tears fall. 

“But, Harry, love, please let me go with you!” Ginny pleaded.  “It would be so much more helpful for me to be there with you.  I would be there to support you and we could fight side by side and –”

“Gin, you know I can’t let you. I love you too much to risk having anything happen to you.  I don’t know what would happen if I let you out of my sight on the battlefield.  Anything could happen.  Your brothers would do bodily harm to me if you got hurt or killed. I couldn’t do that to you or your family.”

Ginny sighed and held tighter to Harry. 

Their lips met. When they broke apart, they were breathing heavily; moments passed before anything else was said. 

“Harry, please?”

“I can’t let myself, Gin. You know that. Please understand, I’m doing this for you.  To make you safe.  I will always and forever love you and that is why I’m not letting you come with me.”

“Harry, before you leave, I have to tell you something.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sure it can wait until after I defeat Voldemort. I have to go now, Gin. The Aurors are waiting for me.”

Ginny hiccupped and wrapped her arms around her love’s neck. 

“I love you Harry Potter. I always will.” 

“I love you too, Gin. And I always will.”

They met in one last kiss, a kiss more passionate than any kiss in all of history’s time. 

They let go of each other, but for a hand. He walked towards the door, reluctantly, still looking at his love. Tears were brimming both of the lovers’ eyes. Their fingertips were still touching when he said one last thing:  “I will always love you Gin.” 

And then he was gone.

Harry had been successful in defeating Voldemort, but it had cost him his life.  Who could have known that his end came when Voldemort’s did?

The news of Harry’s death broke Ginny. There was no one that could console her. She couldn’t get consolation from her mother neither from her father, any of her brothers, nor Hermione. Not a single soul. Yet she didn’t want to be consoled; she only wanted Harry. 


“I didn’t even get to tell him that I was pregnant, Hermione! He didn’t even know he was going to be a father,” Ginny had confided in Hermione the day after she learned he would never be able touch her, or kiss her, or hold her. 

Hermione tried to be supportive.  Hermione held Ginny, attempting to comfort her like sisters do. Hermione cried while Ginny stared, her eyes dry, tears running down Hermione’s face like a faucet.  It was a never ending cycle.

“I’m so sorry. He was like a brother to me. I’m so sorry, Gin.”

“Please, don’t ever call me that,” Ginny had said weakly and solemnly as she pulled herself from Hermione’s arms. How could she do that to me? Only Harry calls me that. Only Harry called me that.     
“I’m sorry, I won’t ever call you that again,” Hermione whispered, hanging her head. 

 “What are you going to do now?” Hermione asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, leaving Hermione alone to cry in the room they had oftentimes shared throughout their Hogwarts years.

After leaving Hermione, Ginny wandered on down to the kitchen, quite sure that her mother was there.  There was no time like the present to tell her. 

She saw that her mother was sitting at the kitchen table for once, too distraught to be cooking or bustling about her kitchen.  

“Mum,” Ginny called weakly. 

Molly Weasley's head turned slowly.  


Ginny saw that her mother’s eyes were red and swollen from crying.  Losing Harry had been like losing a seventh son. 

“Come here, Ginevra.”

Ginny listened to her mother and took a seat beside her. 

“Mum, I have something very important to tell you.  Please don’t scold or anything.”

“What could you tell me that would make me scold you? Things can only get better now that V-Voldemort is gone,” Molly told her daughter somberly. 

Ginny took a deep breath.  “I’m pregnant Mum.”

This certainly wasn’t something Molly Weasley was expecting from her sixteen year old daughter.


“I’m pregnant.  Did you not understand?”

“I understood, but when Ginny?  When?”

“A few days after Harry had returned from his search with Ron and Hermione for the Horcruxes.”

“Oh, Ginny!” Molly wailed.

“Mum, please, tell me what you’re thinking! I can’t tell what you’re thinking!” Ginny had exclaimed. 

“I’m so sorry!  I’m so sorry!” she said, clinging tightly to her daughter. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“How could I ever be mad at you?  You’re my baby,” Molly said, weeping.

Molly held her daughter tight, and Ginny finally felt safe to cry without abandon. 

They cried together. 

“Mum, if you’re not mad, what are you?”

“I’m surprised and a little bit disappointed.  You both were responsible enough to cast a contraception charm.  But there is nothing we can do about it now.  We will only have to wait until your daughter or son comes along.”

“Thank you Mum, for being here for me.”

“I love you; you are my daughter.  But you should see Professor Dumbledore, Ginevra,” her mother suggested. 


Ginny had Flooed to Professor McGonagall’s office, which had been at one time, Professor Dumbledore’s.  Professor McGonagall had kindly told her the directions to Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Professor Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore,” she called out in the empty Hogwarts corridor. 

“Fourth on your left.”

Ginny casually walked toward the sound of the voice she had remembered so well.  It was horrible she could now only find it in a portrait. 

“Hello Professor.”

“Oh, hello, Miss Weasley. What brings you to my portrait today?”

“Well, I hope you have heard the news that Voldemort is gone.  Harry killed him.”

“Good good.  I knew he could.  How did it happen?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“No.  I’m afraid I must have been dozing off when the other portraits had gotten word of it.  They’re so kind not to waken me.”

“So you haven’t heard anything at all?” Ginny asked astounded. 

“I am suppose I haven’t.”

“Well, it was three days ago, May 2. It was on the Hogwarts grounds.  Everyone was there; all the professors, the centaurs from the forest, the giants, sixth and seventh years who felt it was their duty to be there.  But in the middle of it all were Harry and Tom. Just the two of them. Ron told me that Voldemort shot the killing curse as Harry cast his stunning spell. Neither could overpower the other and they just died.”

Dumbledore’s eyes got wide at hearing this.  “How strange.”

“What was the prophecy that doomed Harry to death?!  Why did he have to die?” Ginny cried in desperation.  

Dumbledore’s eyes closed behind his half-moon glasses.  “I will tell you Ginevra, but you will not like what you hear.”

“Tell me,” she pleaded. 

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live when the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…’  There it is Ginevra,” Dumbledore sighed. 

“But, from that, doesn’t it mean that either Voldemort would kill Harry, or Harry would kill Voldemort?  They’re both dead!  So this bloody prophecy is wrong!”

“Not all prophecies can be trusted one-hundred percent, Ginevra.” 

“Well, they should!” she yelled at him.  

Dumbledore said nothing as Ginny attempted to collect herself.  

“Did Harry know?”

“No.  He did not.  I misguided him.  I thought that he would triumph.  It seems that I too, have faults.”

“Like trusting Snape,” Ginny hissed.

Dumbledore sighed.  “No, my dear.  I was not misguided there.  I told Snape that he was to kill me, because I knew Draco Malfoy was too good.  He was never meant to live the life of a Death Eater.”

Ginny stared angrily at Dumbledore, not making a sound. 

“‘Neither can live while the other survives.’ Harry couldn’t live if Voldemort was alive, nor could he live if Voldemort was dead.  Maybe it was wishful thinking.  Maybe it was an old man’s senility.  But one can’t change this fact.  If one tried, it would only end in disaster worse than you could imagine.” 

“So, you are telling me now, that it was Harry’s destiny to die? He was only seventeen years old. He wanted a family. We had talked of getting married after I finished school and having a Quidditch team worth of kids! And he thought he would be alive to do all of this because of what you told him. It was all false.” Ginny was completely disgusted and extremely upset. 

“I cannot feel worse than I already do, Ginevra.”

“What if I told you I was pregnant with Harry’s baby?  Would you feel worse then?”

Dumbledore was shocked to say the least.  “I cannot be any sorrier than I already am.  But I must tell you that your child, the one you created with Harry, is the most precious thing there is.  Though he or she will never bring Harry back, there is the love between the two of you still.”

“I suppose.”

“He will always be with you in that aspect, Ginevra.  Don’t ever forget that.  And don’t worry, you are a smart girl; you will find you have support everywhere you go.”

“Thank you professor.”

“Visit me anytime.”


Ginny visited Dumbledore a few times in the time before her first MediWitch checkup.  He was very insightful and he just listened if she wanted him to.

Then came the day of her first checkup.  

Molly went with her daughter, extremely excited.  Ginny was scared out of her mind, but she certainly didn’t show it.  

“Miss Weasley, I am happy to congratulate you that you have two healthy babies! A girl and a boy,” the MediWitch said.

“Oh! I get two grandbabies at once!” Molly Weasley exclaimed at this news. 

Ginny felt as if she was hyperventilating. Twins? I’m having twins! Oh my god! How am going to care for them both? 
Ginny nearly went into a state of shock at hearing this. 

“W-what?” Ginny finally had managed to stutter. 

“Oh, yes.  Two very healthy twins,” the MediWitch beamed. 

Ginny sought a look of desperation to her mother. 

“Oh, Ginny.  Don’t worry about the expense.  We all will help you.  Your father and I, your brothers, Hermione,” Molly Weasley soothed. Too bad Ginny wasn’t actually worried about the expense. 

The MediWitch looked up from her clipboard.  

“You’re worried about the expense?” the MediWitch asked.  “You won’t have to worry at all.  It seems that Harry Potter left nearly everything he had to your daughter, Mrs. Weasley.  She will be able to live comfortably with her twins for life.”

“Harry left everything to me?”

“Yes.  You’ll have to go to the Ministry to find out all the details, but yes, he did.”  

“Oh, thank Merlin!” Molly Weasley cried, hugging her daughter tightly. “And you’ll be able to finish school too, with a private tutor!”

“Yes, she will, Mrs. Weasley. Now, your next appointment will be in one month from now.  Since you’re a first time mother, carrying twins, it’s best to take the necessary precautions. That means, on June 13 you will have your second checkup. If you need to ask anyone anything, you can always ask your mother or any of the staff here at St. Mungo’s. Alright? Congratulations again. Good day.”

The MediWitch left. Ginny got off the examination table and walked over to her mother open arms to cry. 


Ginny had one week until her twins’ due date. Her stomach was bulging on her petite frame. Pregnancy was like a second skin for Ginny, but she didn’t like the idea of pregnancy without Harry. 

She continued school, but she was being tutored by her pregnant sister-in-law Hermione in the flat she had bought with the money Harry had left her and their twins. (Hermione and Ron were expecting a little boy in August.)

In her free time she decorated the whole flat with Hermione and her mum. However, she decorated her son and daughter’s rooms on her own, seeing it they were most important to her; Quidditch themed for her son and magical creatures for her daughter. She had placed a picture over each of their cribs of their father so they would know what he had looked like.

At the moment, she didn’t leave her flat at all since her due date was so close. 

On January 8, Ginny began thinking of what names would suit her son and daughter as she in the rocking chair in her own bedroom. She knew that she wasn’t going to name her son after Harry; it would be too difficult. She also knew that she wasn’t going to name her daughter something atrocious like Ginerva. 

Then she remembered that night that she had gotten pregnant.

“Gin, whenever it is that we have kids, what would you like to name them?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I’d rather not name them after anyone in particular. I’d rather they have their own identities rather than being remembered as ‘the kid who was named after so-and-so.’”

“I completely agree.  So, what we’re you thinking of?”

“For a girl, I was thinking Niamh [Nee-iv].  It goes back to my Irish roots, you know.  As for a boy, I’ve thought about Liam Emmett.".“But what about middle names? I love the ideas for their first names.”“I like the idea of Niamh Saoirse [Nee-iv Sear-sha].  Niamh Saoirse Potter.  Sounds nice doesn’t it? And then Liam Emmett.  Liam Emmett and Niamh Saoirse Potter.”
“Fantastic.  They will surely be the only ones with those names!” Harry teased.

“Mr. Potter, are you making fun of me?”

“Of course not!” Harry had protested.

The only response he got was being tackled to the bed.

End of Flashback                 
“Liam Emmett and Niamh Saoirse Potter,” Ginny whispered contentedly. 

She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She sat down in her rocking chair and took a deep breath.  She knew it would pass quickly.  It had been all morning.  

Nearly seven minutes later, the sharp pain returned and she finally knew what it was.  And this time, it hurt like hell. 

“Hermione! Damn it! Hermione!” 

Hermione came in, panting. “What Ginny?”

“I think it’s time!” Hermione stood there, a surprised look on her face. “Hermione, go find Ron!”

“Yes, find Ron!” she said quietly, walking away. 

“But don’t leave me!” 

Hermione turned around and stood beside her sister-in-law.

“Sorry, don’t know where my thoughts are.”

“You know, pregnancy has made you spacey.”

“I know.  And I don’t like it anymore than you!” Hermione retorted. “RON!  Ginny’s in labour!”

“Push Ginny!” her mother cried. “You’re almost there!”

“I can’t! I can’t!”

“Honey, think of Harry,” Molly said wiping her seventeen year old daughter’s brow. 

“Think of Harry.”

Moments later, Niamh Saoirse was welcomed into the world free of Dark Lords and Death Eaters. Following two and a half minutes later was Liam Emmett. 

Ginny Weasley was tired after only eight hours of labor. (“Honey, be happy that it took you one third of what it took me to give birth to you,” her mother said.) She was tired but very happy; she had her daughter and son. Her beautiful son and daughter. 

Niamh was fair-skinned, with a few patches of fiery red hair. Her eyes were blue, as all babies’ eyes are when they are born.  She had the lungs of a siren. She was perfect.

Liam was bigger than his sister and had the same messy black hair (only in short supply) that his father had had. He was quieter than Niamh, but so much more expressive with his temporarily blue eyes. He was perfect.

Ginny could not have been more thrilled to be the mother of two brilliant and perfect babies, born with exactly ten toes and ten fingers.  She was so thrilled that she did all she could not to cry, but her eyes simply would not have it. 

She cried because it was amazing how easily she could love her babies, but then it didn’t take much to love their father, either.  She cried because it finally and truly dawned on her that her babies would never get to meet their father.  But she also cried for herself; she only hoped she could be the best mother she could be.


On January 11, an unusually warm night for January, mother and babies went home, three days after the twins’ birth day. That night Ginny was sitting in her rocking chair on the balcony off her bedroom with Liam and Niamh each in their bassinets. A gentle breeze blew Ginny’s hair about. It seemed to whisper one thing:  “I will always love you Gin.” 

And then it was gone. 

SOB! R & R por favor.

PS: I know that that isn't what the propecy is, but it worked with my story. 

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