Part Of Her
It was a foggy night, the moon barely visible beneath layers of clouds in the sky. A few stars twinkled in the night here in there, but trees that obstructed her view of the sky hid most of them. The ground underfoot was squishy grass and crunchy leaves of early autumn. Headstones dotted the landscape, usually surrounded by wilting flowers and small, handwritten notes. And right in front of her, maybe eight feet away, stood another tombstone, surrounded by photos and more flower vases. The scrawl on the headstone was barely readable in the dark, but she knew it by heart anyway.
Harry James Potter
Beloved friend, father, husband, and hero
July 31st, 1980 - June 17th, 2001
He will be remembered
He hadn't lived to see his twenty-first birthday, Ginny thought sadly as she knelt by his grave. The years had certainly taken a lot out of her; her once vibrant red hair was streaked with grey and the corner of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled. She had married Harry in 1998, a few months after Voldemort's downfall. She had been 17. It was a small ceremony, at the burrow, but for her it was just right. She had never been one for big parties anyway.
Nine months later James had been born, and a year after that Lily. They had been so happy together, with their small family, facing the world. Lily had learned how to hold a wand by the age of two and James had started Quidditch training at three. They had so many plans of what they wanted to do. It seemed as though they had all the time in the world when they really had not.
Ginny leaned near the headstone, tears sparkling in her brown eyes. Harry had died on their third anniversary, murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange who had been anxious to avenge her dead leader. Ginny had killed her, but it hadn't been enough.
Her heart was empty.
James was fifteen now, and Lily thirteen. They were good students at Hogwarts, though neither had the father they all had wanted. And every year, on their anniversary, Ginny would visit Harry's grave, to remember him.
He had held a responsibility he didn't deserve, one he never asked for. Not once did he complain, but shouldered what he had to do and did it. She admired him so much for that, knowing she could never be as good as her husband.
Part of her just wanted to lay here for eternity, and forget it all. Another part wished she had died with him, instead of him, so she wouldn't be the one left behind.
But Lily and James needed a mother.
And Ginny needed a reason to live, to breathe, to wake up in the morning.
Wiping away a tear, she carefully laid a photo of her children by his grave. She had to go back to the empty bedroom, the darkness, all-alone. There would always be that empty place at the table, the silence where laughter should take place. Harry was gone, and in going had taken part of her. A part of her she hadn't even known she had.