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SIYE Time:12:28 on 19th April 2024
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What If?
By lots_of_Phlegm_around

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Tragedy
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 8
Summary: The war is finally over, but she isnt moving. she isnt moving. what if she never wakes up? what if she never comes back to him? This story is based around the invetiable question 'What If?', with two different outcomes of the same plot.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4588







ChapterPrinter


What If?



He couldn’t block it out. It was his fault all over again. Every single person he had ever…she was gone. He had killed her.

He had killed Ginny.

From behind him Harry could hear Hermione whispering frantic incarnations but her voice sounded oddly distant. Everything was.

How could he? How could he have done it?




His scar was still faintly scratched in his skin. Harry thought it strange that he had become somewhat attached to it, but now it was fading he knew it was for the best. It was only a reminder of what used to be after all.

Cold water wasn’t cold anymore. Every day he attempted to wake himself up in the bathroom by dunking his head in the sink, soaking his jet black hair and keeping his green eyes wide open as he plunged.

It never worked.

Drying himself with a dirty towel around his neck, Harry walked back to his room, silent. When was life ever going to change? It had only been one month; he consoled himself every time the thought came. Of course it still hurt. Of course life was strange; because for once Harry was living his own life. There were no rules to follow anymore or a goal in life. He had dreamed of this since he first discovered the real reason for his parent’s death- since Dumbledore had first told him why Voldemort wanted to hear the prophecy so much.

But now he was here, living an ordinary life after such- such craziness- it didn’t feel like life used to. Nothing was exhilarating or made his blood rush to the tips of his fingers, just daring him to wait one more second before reaching for his wand. There was no danger, no adrenaline- no reason for anything. And- worse than any other torture he had ever had to endure in his life- there was no her. Life just- was.



Her hands were limp. There was no use, he kept telling himself- even Ron was trying to pull Harry back, get him away, just to let go…let go….

He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her.

“Look at the mess I’ve made.” He let the tears stream, not noticing Hermione’s face reflecting his exact expression.
“Look at what I’ve done. I had one promise left and I broke it. I broke her.” he tugged lightly once more against the dead hand, the tears mingling with the darkening blood, causing Ginny’s white skin to slide against Harry’s frantic, fumbling fingers.

He had only had one dream. And he wasn’t even allowed that.

“I’m sorry, my Ginny. I’m so sorry.”

What else was there to say? He had dreamt, promised, wanted, needed so much and it had all been about her. Now what could he do? How could he possibly carry on? What was the point of carrying on? He had been the Chosen One and he had defeated Voldemort. Who needed him now? What had it been worth, to loose the one person who had always understood?




It fitted snug in his pocket of the billowing robes. Gees I’m sad, Harry grinned. Well, his robes did match the colour of the ring’s jewel. But even as he walked and thought, Harry knew he had this planned perfect. People said it was too soon, what was he thinking? But he had always known; he just hadn’t realised that she was the one. Harry’s eyes drifted along the rubble as he entered Diagon Alley- his smile always faltered at the sight. Would he ever get used to it? Would he ever forget the way it used to be when he had first walked down here with Hagrid? He turned to face ahead, determined to stay in his happy state. Looking at the large clock that hung from Gringotts, Harry entered the Three Broomsticks, his heart fluttering. “Ten minutes,” he whispered to himself.



“Ron. RON!”

“Harry? What is it?” Harry heard Ron bellow a few feet behind him, somewhere to the left. God this building, did it really need to be quite so big?

“Can you hear them anymore?”

“I can’t hear or see a blasted thing mate! Why?”

“I’m worried.” Harry had become used to speaking his emotions now. He knew it helped nobody if he kept them to himself.

Harry turned to see Ron running up behind him, his breath coming in short, deep gasps.

“Oh Christ,” Ron muttered, as his thoughts turned to exactly who they were talking about. “Hermione,” he whispered in a strangled voice. “And- oh God and Gin- common Harry we’ve got to bloody find them!”

They pelted down the corridors, their feet slapping against the hard stone and echoing around them.

“They cant’ have taken a wrong turn Harry, Hermione had a point me spell.”

Harry didn’t need to nod- his face mirrored Ron’s, his thoughts identical.

A corner. They stopped.

“Ron,” Harry whispered, wanting to warn his friend that what they could find might not be pretty; that the two women they both loved could be dead; that- he didn’t want to think it, but Ginny’s lifeless body was coming back into his mind. He had dreamt it so often, seen it while duelling boggarts, and dreaded the thought of it countless times…he wasn’t ready to see if it was real.

“I know Harry,” came Ron’s strange voice. “But we have to.”

They breathed deeply, holding tightly onto their wands, and walked.




Harry scolded himself for being disappointed- he had a family now, a family who forgave him. They still cared…he just wished he could still feel anything, anything for them. He knew he loved them and they returned it graciously. Everyone loved the defeater, the good old reliable, mighty Harry Potter, as Ron had once called him in bitterness. But it had gained him nothing worth gaining. Their love was a tiny consolation to hers. He hated that he felt that way but it was true. He’d swap it in an instant, if he could.



She entered the pub, smiling as their eyes met at once.

“Good morning,” she grinned as she sat opposite him, her eyes sparkling. Harry noted her cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold wind, her hair a little messy, but her face full of pleasure. Her smile faltered slightly as she saw the expression on is face.

“Harry- you ok?”

“Unbelievably good, thanks,” he suddenly smiled, the nervous look in his eyes disappearing.

“Oh well, that makes a nice change,” she teased, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips. “So what do you want to drink?”

“I don’t want anything to drink,” Harry smiled, giving a little teasing of his own.

“Then what are we in a pub for?” she scowled in her confusion, as Harry’s grin widened.

“I want to go for a walk, fancy a walk?”

She stared. “Ok Harry, what have you taken today? You are being incredibly strange, and yes, even for you.”

“Ah the delights of being in love. Common, lets go down by the river, we haven’t been there in ages!”

“But- the weather-”

Before she could answer Harry had her hand and was dragging her up from her seat.


he tugged lightly once more against the dead hand, the tears mingling with the darkening blood, causing Ginny’s white skin to slide against Harry’s frantic, fumbling fingers.

They left the pub, leaving an annoyed looking barman, and the wind whipped her hair into the air as she tried to control it in vain. “Knew I should’ve brought my wand,” she giggled as it flew about her features.

Harry laughed, and started to run, dragging her along behind him, daring her to slow down.

“Harry! It’s bloody freezing out here!” she shrieked as they continued to run against the wind, the river coming closer, and their feet wet in the dewy grass.

She couldn’t understand his behaviour- it was crazy! As if the wind was making him more alive than he ever had been before.

Suddenly Harry stopped and turned once they reached a bench.

“Sit down,” he requested as she sat, a smile on her lips, anticipation clawing at her for reasons she didn’t know.

“I want you to know how awesome it feels every morning waking up and knowing I have you in my life. For a long time it was hard when I woke up alone, but now- now I know. I know you are the person I want to be with for- forever really,” Harry started to loose his nerve, but her encouraging smile and patient eyes encouraged him to continue.

He grasped a cold hand between his own, rubbing it to keep it warm as she let lout a laugh.


he tugged lightly once more against the dead hand, the tears mingling with the darkening blood, causing Ginny’s white skin to slide against Harry’s frantic, fumbling fingers.

As Harry kneeled in the freezing grass and felt his robes soak up the dew, he couldn’t help but smile at her expression. It had gone from amusement to amazement as she finally realised what he had been talking about.



Harry closed his eyes, bringing the towel tighter to his face as the tears fell, just like they did every morning when he awoke without her. He needed her. He needed her back.



“Oh God- there- they can’t- HERMIONE!”

Harry’s eyes jerked back from Ginny’s body for one moment at Ron’s shout. He was surprised he could still hear anything around him after his body had just been ripped in half.

“Harry!” He didn’t turn until he felt her hand on his back.

“H- Hermione?”

“She’s ok- she’s ok,” Ron panted, his eyes wide as Harry and Hermione hugged.
“Harry I’m so sorry, we didn’t see them. Is she….?”
Harry turned back, seeing Ron at her body.

His feet stuttered backwards on their own accord, his eyes couldn’t leave her face. He vaguely felt Hermione squeeze his arm as she ran to join Ron.

He could see her mouth moving as Hermione whispered delicate words that didn’t reach his ears. Ron looked just like he had the night his father had been bitten. No…this couldn’t be happening…




“Harry, what are you-”

“You should’ve expected this sometime soon; it took me so long- but now, I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do this Harry? So soon?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” Harry whispered softly, as his hand pulled out a small velvet box from the insides of his robes.

She took a sharp breath, waiting for the words.




“GINNY,” Ron was shouting as the tears were streaming down his translucent skin. “Gin- my Gin,” he took her into his arms, rocking her body back and forth.

Harry couldn’t feel Hermione’s arms but he could see her tears.

Why was he so numb? Why couldn’t he just CRY? Nothing made sense, this didn’t- he couldn’t- Harry felt his legs buckle beneath him as he half collapsed to his knees on the ground. She was so pale. So, so pale.




“….Would you give me the utmost honour of being my wife?”

She gasped through her smile and nodded vigorously as any form of words had left her.

He stared. “Yes? You want to marry me?”

“Harry; I have since I was eleven.”

He laughed and took hold of her tightly, crushing her to him.

“Harry!” she gasped, pinching his arm affectionately.

“Sorry Gin. I’m just- yeah.” His stupid grin was infectious.

“I just don’t understand- why so soon after what- what happened?”

His grin faded slightly as seriousness drew back into his eyes.

“I nearly lost you once. It was the end of my life. I can’t let the chance of us ever slipping again. Never.”

He said it with such sincerity, Ginny was sure Harry had never spoken a truer word in his life.

“I love you Ginerva Weasley.”

“Ginerva Potter,” she grinned wickedly.




Ron’s gasps had suddenly stopped. Harry didn’t even know he had been listening to them as he had taken Ginny’s lifeless hand in his. He didn’t know how long they had remained there, but Ron’s sobs and gasps along with Hermione’s whispering had become somewhat familiar since they had found her body. Now they had stopped, Harry managed to raise his head away from her, to face her brother.

Ron’s eyes were locked on Ginny’s face, his face a mixture of horror and disbelief. Harry turned to Hermione, her eyes finally opening after she had stopped speaking incarnations that meant nothing to Harry. They were both staring, wide eyed, at the girl in Ron’s arms.

And she was staring back.

Harry gave a strangled cry as she every so slowly blinked.

Ron was gaping. “What did you do?” he spoke quietly, his question directed at Hermione as he gazed lovingly into his sister’s face.

“She was never dead,” Hermione replied. “I just wasn’t sure- I had to check before getting your hopes up but- they put a charm on her. It’s practically like Romeo and Juliet,” Hermione smiled faintly, tired lines etched into her face. Harry stared at her, trying to listen as his heart rose to his throat in relief and struggle not to break down.

“What?” came Ron’s reply as Ginny’s hand twitched.

“It’s slowly wearing off. She- she was meant to appear dead so we’d think she was. If we left her she would have died- I think that was the idea.”

“What was,” Harry asked shakily, forcing himself not to grab Ginny into his own arms.

“For us to leave her to die and for us to think it our fault.”

….

“Hermione,” Ron said after a few moments of silence. “I love you.”

Harry felt something strange on his face before realizing it was a smile.




Harry smiled a true smile, taking her hand, still not quite believing his luck. He had her completely, once and for all; he had his Ginny.

He would hate to think how it could have been if Ginny had died that day; what would his life be like now?




Harry closed his eyes, bringing the towel tighter to his face as the tears fell, just like they did every morning when he awoke without her. He needed her. He needed her back.

There was no life without his Ginny.

There was no life without his Ginny.

There was no life without his Ginny, after all.
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