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I Am Not There by Lostmyheart
Chapter 1 : I am not there, I do not sleep
 
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This story is a prequel to another story of mine - Stay.
I was inspired to write this story, when I read the beautiful poen 'Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep'.
I hope you will enjoy it. Please review :) 

 



 


 

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
 

I am not there; I do not sleep.
 

I am not there; I did not die.
 

 


 

*
 

 


 

Death is not the end. It was never the end. Death is when loved ones must part. It is a road we all have to travel in life. I knew that now, because I am dead but very much alive.

I lost the fight but won the war. I left the world and I took Voldemort with me.
Here I am, in the afterlife, trapped between heaven and earth.


 

The world expands, once you’ve had your last breath. Suddenly I can see everything so clearly now, I am everywhere. I am the wind that blows the windows open at the Burrow; I am the deer that’s watching from the forest near the graveyard; I am the beautiful white dove that lands on the branch near the window of Ron’s room… I am everything.


 

To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” Professor Dumbledores voice lingered in my mind. He was right.
 

It is the unknown we fear, when we look upon death and darkness. I can safely say that there is nothing to be afraid of.


 

I can see my loved ones, as they mourn my death. I can see them struggle to celebrate the end of the war. I can see when they return to their lives with teary eyes and heavy hearts. I can see them when they visit the graveyard, were they lay new flowers on my grave, to replace the withered ones.


 

I can see her.


 

Under the dark skies, she stands by my grave. The wind blowing through her long red hair, her eyes fixed on the tombstone.


 

She does not move an inch, she does not speak. She is a statue.


 

I watch as she comes by every day, only to stand and look at my name on the tombstone.
My grey, silver tombstone carved with beautiful letters in black, telling that Harry Potter died at the age of seventeen, as a Hero.
 

Now and then a tear escapes her brown eyes. She will never know that I kiss every tear away.

 


 

*


 

 
 

In this afterlife, I wait. I wait for her to move on. I need her to move on. I cannot rest till I know she is going to be alright. I cannot close my eyes before she is happy and safe. I need to know she’ll be alright; that she will accept what has happened and not dwell in the past.


 

She had become what I’ve been afraid of, since I passed away. She was a shell of herself.


 

As the months passed, I’ve listened to Mrs. Weasley, discretely whisper to her husband, that she was concerned of her daughter’s well-being. He nodded as he watched how she absently looked out the window, not touching her food. His eyes become teary as he thought of how much my death had affected his little girl.


 

I’ve watched her brothers become awkwardly silent when she walks into the room. They were unsure how to be around her, she had become so fragile.
I’ve seen how people on the street gossip, as soon as she passes by them. People have no manners anymore.
 

I know she hears them. I can feel her sorrow and despair grow deeper. How will she ever move on?


 

She knew she was too young to know the meaning of true love. But at the mere age of 16, she lost her beloved brother and a boy she had loved since she was 10 years old, from the first moment she met him.


 

 


 

*

 


 

I remember the last moment I had in my life, my last minute, lying in a pool of blood with her arms around me. The echoing of their cheers filled the air, Voldemort had died. But it all stopped as soon as they saw me in her arms. The silence was deafening.


 

When I took my last breath, my life flashed in front of me. I could not see anything but the pieces of memories I once forgot I had.


 

I saw a flash of green light and heard a loud thump on the floor, my mother’s lifeless eyes looking at me. Then he looked at me, victory smeared all over his face as he raised his wand…


 

My first day in Hogwarts, I stood in awe as I looked at the magnificent castle for the first time.


 

Suddenly a spur of memories blinded me; Ron and Hermione laughing, we had just taken down the troll. Fred and George flying through the corridors on the day they dropped out. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing by the front door at the burrow, with huge smiles on their lips as they waved goodbye.


 

Dumbledore was behind his desk, telling the story of his beautiful Phoenix, Hagrid standing near the forbidden forest, smiling at me, and then I saw Ginny…
 

 

Ginny was in a beautiful white dress, dancing and laughing in the sunlight on a green meadow, with flowers in her long red hair, her pretty face smiling at me, radiating with happiness.


 

This was no memory of mine, it was a dream.


 

I had plans for the two of us. I wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Seeing her in the white wedding dress, she would have been a beautiful bride.


 

My dream was in strong contrast to what I see now. She was still standing in the graveyard, her hair moist and sticky from the thick fog. 


 

I listened as she whispered she loved me and wished I wasn’t dead. I sometimes wondered if she heard me tell her how much I loved her. It was as if her eyes lit up sometimes, but I knew it was only because she thought of our good times together. She could not hear me whisper that I am alright, I am alive.
 

 


 

*



 

One day everything changed. That sparkle of hope I had been waiting for, finally appeared. Even though I don’t breathe anymore, I caught myself trying to hold my breath.


 

I watched as she picked him up from the ground on a rainy day. I knew her well enough to know, she would help anyone in need, even when they didn’t deserve it.


 

Draco Malfoy deeply regretted what he had done and she could see it. His pain and agony painted across his pale face.


 

When she helped him from the ground, I couldn’t help but smile with pride. She was so helpful and so kind. She was still the girl I once fell in love with, she hadn’t changed at all, at some points.


 

She was like a candle, she spread light and warmth. She made is so easy to love her, to be around her and she was so friendly to everyone.
 

 

As months passed, I watched as they grew fonder of each other. They cooked dinner together and watched old muggle movies because he actually enjoyed watching them. They took long walks in the park, in the middle of the night. They always made sure that they wouldn’t get caught alone together.


 

She slowly but surely, began to have feelings for him and it was reciprocated.
 

 

He found a reason for him to change who he used to be. He found a reason to start a new life.
And it was all because of her.
 

 


 

*


 

 
 

Jealousy does not exist in this afterlife. I did not envy Draco Malfoy when he touched Ginny. I knew how much he cared for her, I knew he would never let her down and I knew he loved her with every core of his body. I did sometimes wish that it was I wasn’t dead, but only for a brief second; it was amazing how happy and content I was in death.

One night, almost two years since I had passed away, Draco prepared a special dinner for the two of them. I watched as he cooked dinner, while she sat on the couch, reading Witch Weekly, smiling widely. I felt my love for her grow even more, she looked so beautiful.

He lit the candles on the dinner table, arranged it all very romantically. He had music playing in the background, one of Ginny’s favorite musicians singing to a soft melody. He did all the things I never got to do in life; I never got the chance to make her feel special.

That’s why I was so happy that she met him.

I watched as he walked over to her, with two drinks and offered one to her. She smiled as their fingers touched when he gave her the glass. I could feel her butterflies flutter inside of her, that warm feeling of love rushing through her body.

From that moment, I was finally reassured that she was happy, she was loved and she was safe.
He loved her endlessly. He knew that she still loved me and that her guilt of having a relationship with another man was coming in waves, yet he stayed. He knew she sometimes felt she shouldn’t forget me and was afraid that her relationship with him meant that soon I wouldn’t be in her heart anymore.

But tonight she was carefree. She laughed, she smiled, she enjoyed being in his company.

I knew it would all end tomorrow morning, when she realized it was the first time she hadn’t visited my grave at night. Her guilt would overcome her mind and body and she’d rush to the graveyard to reassure me that she hadn’t forgotten me, that she still loved me. If only she knew I wasn’t there.

He loved her enough to deal with her guilt. I was sure of that now, I felt the relief wash over me, the heavy burden fell of my shoulders.

 


The wind carried a whisper, a whisper of my mother’s voice. She called my name.
I smiled as lifted my head; I think I heard her voice from above...

I see the light.

 

 

 






 

 


 

1 Quote - Albus Dumbledore. HPSS, page 297



 
 
 

 




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