Disclaimer: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Quidditch, etc, etc, etc. NOT MINE! If it was mine I'd get that Shelby Cobra GT500 coming soon, instead of pining away for it. Enjoi anyway...

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The war had been fought and won by what the Daily Prophet was calling The Light. Harry Potter was the hero of the Wizarding world, as well were his friends. Well, at least the friends who were still alive. Ron had used his part in the war, and the recognition that came with, along with his skill on the Quidditch pitch to gain a spot with the Chudley Cannons as a keeper. Hermione had decided that she could do more to change the flawed world she lived in from within the system. She was the head of the new Muggle/Magical Interaction Office. She was the youngest Head of Department in history, and at the rate she was working she would become the youngest Head of the Magical World.

Harry Potter on the other hand was living a quiet life. He and Ginny had moved in together. Their relationship started in their sixth year and bloomed ever since. Harry was apprehensive at first (after all six older brothers, a father, and an overprotective mother was rather intimidating) but it was all for nothing. The Weasley family were enthused that Harry had fallen for the youngest of the family. Yet it was five years since the war ended, and Ginny was starting to worry…

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Ghostly Calls

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"Harry!" Ginny called out. "Harry where are you?" She called again. The home wasn't all that big but you could hide away if you wanted to. She smiled faintly remembering that when they first moved in she would hide from Harry and then jump out scaring her young love. He would jump grabbing his chest and then smile at her. He hadn't smiled like that in three years. After the smile he would chase her around the house. Once she was inevitably caught he would tickle her until it was hard to breathe and tears formed in her eyes. She hadn't felt that way in the same three year span that Harry hadn't smiled.

"Harry, where are you?" she asked with the edge to her voice that she just couldn't seem to shake. She continued through the house opening doors one at a time looking for the man of her life, the man that should have been her family. She didn't like to think about it, three years ago that is. When she was pregnant…

"There you are," she said finding Harry in the study. "What do you want for dinner?" Ginny waited. Harry was poring over some papers that Ginny didn't know what were. She calmly restated her question, "What do you want for dinner?" But Harry seemed dead set on ignoring her. "Fine," Ginny said losing her cool, "get it yourself!"

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Ginny had long lost all hope in repairing her relationship with the man she had loved for most of her life. She couldn't talk to her family about it. One, they just wouldn't understand, they thought she and Harry were the perfect couple. Two, they would side with Harry. Poor orphaned Harry had taken a spot in the Weasley family, and in some strange way he was put before the blood children. Ginny didn't fault Harry or her parents for this, but she resented the fact that it had happened all the same.

Ginny knelt in the floor of the room she had taken up three years ago. Three years ago, after her pregnancy. After her and Harry's child was lost during the birth. When their baby died and Harry quit looking at her. When Harry quit smiling and Ginny quit laughing. When their friends stopped coming by. Ginny knelt on the floor and wept for what should have been.

She heard feet on the steps. Creaking like some abandoned haunted house. She tilted her head to stare at the open doorway. Harry paused briefly, not looking up, not looking in, before he continued to his bedroom. Ginny's heart was torn a little more and redoubled in her grief. Why did it all go so wrong…?

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Harry came home, and it was two in the morning. His stumbling into miscellaneous furniture had awoken Ginny. She stumbled down the staircase to confront her late arriving partner. For some reason her discussion with Harry about marriage popped into her head. It was planned small, and after their child was born. But then, she supposed, all plans have a fault.

Harry was leaning against a wall. Pictures of him and Ginny during a happier time hung on the wall.

"So where have you been?" Ginny asked in the best impersonation of her mother that she could muster. Harry gave a half laugh; his breath hit Ginny like she'd been slapped. The alcohol on his breath seemed like enough to make her tipsy.

"Oh, that's just fucking great, you were out getting drunk?" she asked, her anger not going checked at all.

Harry gave a half laugh half sob this time. His eyes scrunched up and he started to weep.

"I'm not dealing with this," Ginny muttered to Harry and started to storm back up the stairs.

Harry started to rip the pictures from the walls. Throwing them so the glass shattered against the opposite wall, the frames splitting apart, this regained Ginny's attention. She turned around startled; Harry was now slumped against the wall crying to himself.

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It had been a week since Harry had come home smelling like a homeless drunk. Ginny had thought about leaving all week, but she didn't know where to turn. She gave a small laugh at herself, she felt like that eleven year old girl with a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was exiting his room; heavy bags drooped under his eyes.

"Harry," Ginny said, "we need to talk." But Harry walked by her. "Harry, we need to talk!" But Harry kept walking.

Ginny sped up and got in front of what used to be her love. Harry stopped suddenly with an odd look on his face. "WE NEED TO TALK!" Ginny yelled at the top of her lungs.

Harry blinked. And then he walked away.

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Ginny didn't know what to do. She decided finally to just trap Harry and make him listen. She approached his bedroom only to hear him talking to himself, but it sounded like he was talking to someone else.

"Why did you have to leave? Why did you have to leave me?"

Ginny approached the doorway and silently peered inside from where the door didn't fully shut.

"I could have taken one death, but not two…" Harry moaned and took another swig of amber liquid.

Ginny's breath hitched into her throat. Harry was holding a picture of a very pregnant Ginny. He stroked the picture affectionately… absently. The memory flooded back to Ginny and hit her like a ton of bricks. She was dead, as well was her baby. Three years ago, a complicated birth, and two witches lost their lives.

Her hand shot to her mouth, she felt like a wreck. Her hand was fading, she was now moving on. Her last words somehow penetrated to the living world. Harry heard every syllable.

"I'm sorry love, please live…"

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END

A/N: My other stories should be updated this weekend, at least that's what the hope is. Sorry guys.