Beyond the Grave



A small word – only four letters, but its meaning can open up infinite possibilities and create many questions.

As far back as time itself people have questioned death….. what happens when the body ceases to exist? Do you just fade away into nothingness? Little more than a memory kept alive in the hearts of those you loved and who loved you?

Or is there more out there? Muggles have asked these questions for centuries yet never found any answers …

Wizards have asked the same questions, and come back with only a slightly better account, we know there is a soul, and it does go somewhere, but where and why remain a mystery.

Ghosts have come back to us, proving that there is existence after death, but either they have lost all memory of the mysteries of death, or that information in itself was never revealed to them…

Perhaps I should break into my musings a moment to introduce myself…

            My name is Genevra Molly Weasley, although I have been called Ginny as long as I can remember…

            This is my story.

And as with any story we must have a beginning, and where will I start….  Perhaps my birth? Or my earliest memories of a poor but happy family with six brothers and loving parents

            While that is a story, indeed even a beginning, it is not where I will start … for my story will begin with my death.

It's a funny feeling realising you're dead, realising that you're never going to do all the things you wanted to do with you're life, realising that this is it, for eternity you are going to wander.

Because that what it is, a realization.... because nothing actually changes… not immediately at least.

The first thing I learned about death is why some people are ghosts, and some are not. In truth we are all ghosts, we are just living on different planes of existence. Ghost like Nick and Myrtle, they're just on a different level.

Death is all about levels, what you would think of as ghosts, Nick, Myrtle, the Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron, they are each on the lowest rung of the ladder, they realised they were dead, but they chose not to go on.

I'm the next level up, I'm dead, but I didn't know I died at first - that makes all the difference.

 Because I didn't know I died, and because my death was unexpected, I wasn't given the choice to stay, or to move on…. My body skipped straight to the next plain. I'm doomed to wander the lower levels of death, until I can find peace.

 But what makes my fate worse, is that I am unable to have contact with the living, and I am also unable to have contact with the higher dead.

I'm in between, a limbo if you would, my only reassurance is that I am not here alone, all those who died the way I died are somewhere on my level, at least those who have not yet found peace and moved on.

  I just have to find them, and even when you're dead, it's a big world out there.

 But I know there are others here; I know this because others shared my fate,

 I am but one of many victims of murder.

I am Ginny Weasley and this is my story, if you wish to learn more, please read on.

[SilvermoonLuna: ok this idea for a story just came out of nowhere, some of you may have read Remember me by Christopher Pike – I suppose that it partially my inspiration, If you like the beginning or even if you don't please review, I don't think I've seen anything of this sort on fanfiction and that is part of the reason why I am writing it, I would love to know what people think!]