Authors note: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling. Full credit goes to her for all situations and information mentioned in any of the 7 books or interviews, etc. as well. However, the storyline of this fanfic is all me and the little voice in my head – and thus, of course, not to be copied by anybody else – that would be stealing my creativity, my ideas – and not very nice


It had been three years now. Three years since they had returned from their quest. Three years since the living hell that they were forced to call their present had ended. Three years since she thought that maybe, finally, everything would be alright now. That her family would get the peace they needed so much now. That he would do as he promised, come back for her.

But he never did. The world had destroyed the boy inside of him, and had taken the man she loved along. Her brother managed it. He managed to rebuild a life, as normal as he could ever have dreamed of. He even managed to finally ask the girl, no, woman, he had so obviously been in love with for the past 7 years, out. But he couldn't anymore. He was there for his godson. He was there for his job. He was there for her family. He was there for the world.

But somehow, after all those days of being there, he just couldn't manage to be there for her. He was nice, he was friendly, he was there – but he was never there for her.

Her mum was busy with all the expansions of the family. And after all those years of being 'the only daughter' it felt nice not to be needed, checked on, taken into account all the time. But somehow she felt like her mum wouldn't really miss her anymore. She had other daughters now, new people that she could look after. She didn't need her anymore.

Her dad was working, helping to rebuild a world that he hoped would turn out for the better. A world that would, hopefully, never again return to the ashes it had almost destroyed itself to. And when he got home, after a day of working, asking, ordering, being needed, he just couldn't be needed by her anymore. He was a grandfather now. He had responsibilities to attend to. And those usually didn't include her. She wasn't his little girl anymore.

Her brothers were living, living!, the life they had all hoped for, with or without the girls, the women, the friends, the jobs they had hoped for. They had moved on. They didn't pay attention to their little sister anymore. And she wasn't their little sister anymore. She still needed them – but she couldn't be their little sister anymore. And they couldn't be her big brothers anymore. So they lived, they were living, and she stayed behind.

Somehow, she had paused her life until he came back to her – but when he came back, it wasn't to her, for her. And now she couldn't unpause her life – a life that was supposed to begin now. But she never even started. It was as if she had heard someone call 'GO!', but her feet refused to run together with the rest of the world. And they kept on refusing to do so. And they would keep on refusing to do so. Until he came back to her. But he never did. And now she was stuck, watching everybody elses backs, running far ahead of her.

And then she ran into some boy she had thought she would never see again. Just another boy who, so she thought, had long since moved on. And he had. But he still cared. And he offered her a way out. A way to, finally, get away from it all.

He knew she played. And he knew she was good at it – really good. And he happened to know a team, an unknown one, that needed a Chaser. A team that no one had ever heard of, in a city that nobody knew of. To play for them, she would have to leave everything behind. A thought that had never sounded as appealing as it did right now.


It had been three years. Three years since they came back. Three years since he thought that maybe, if he was lucky, he would finally be able to live now. To just live, be normal, be him. But luck had never before been on his side when it came to things such as this. And luck decided it didn't agree then either. So he came home, and couldn't say anything. He watched his best friends be happy. He watched her being happy for everybody who had survived. But he only watched.

It was as if he had become too tired to do anything but watch. Watch how all his friends, all his family, all his surroundings, all moved on. And he just watched, too tired to do anything else. Too tired to try and do the same. Too tired to find out what it was like, just living. Not being chased every other day, not having a mad man attempting to murder you every two weeks. Too tired to live up to his promise.

He watched as the people around him re-build there world. The world he would have died for. The world he had died for. Perhaps it was that. Perhaps, when he was dead, he had lost something. The voice inside of him that had always been screaming at him. Telling him to move forward, to get on with it, to never stop. That voice had gone, and he didn't know what to do without it.

So he went along with it. When his best friend tried to become an Auror, he did the same. When he got accepted he went to the trainings. When he was done training he went into the field. When the last traces of what had almost happened were disposed of, he moved on to smaller crimes. When he was asked for advice on how to make sure nothing like that ever happened again, he offered it.

And all that time, those three long years, he felt as if he was watching.

He was watching as so many of his friends got engaged. He was watching as they said yes. He was watching as they became father and mother, uncle and aunt, godfather and godmother. He was watching as they grew together. He was watching as his godson grew up. He was watching as the boy asked who and where his parents were. He was watching as she just lived on.

But he couldn't live anymore. He didn't know how to. He knew that, once up on a time, he did know. He was sure he had a plan back then. Back before he died. But somehow he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember how to live.

So he just was. He was there, but not really.

And then, one day, he was sitting in his office, wondering how three years had managed to slip past, and wondering why he hadn't noticed - wondering how nobody had seen that he hadn't noticed, when suddenly the door flew open, and his best friend stormed in. He looked at him, waiting for whatever it was that had him running through the ministry.

He heard one sentence, only 3 words, and it was as if he finally woke up.

"Ginny's gone."


I will be posting all chapters today so I am going to say this here: this is basically either a very long one shot that I split into 5 chapters, or a story that I feel could be a one shot. However, be that as it may, I would love to know what you think of it, so please review, follow and/or favorite!
Greetings!