The rain began just as the girl was slipping off to sleep. She could hear it, only faintly, as her mind started to drift. This was the only time, when her mind was neither conscious nor completely at rest, when she was saved from the constant torture that was both her waking life as well as her dream world. That tiny amount of time that is barely distinguishable for only a fraction of a moment, when you are aware of life, yet completely oblivious to anything within it. That instant is what she lived for. It was the one thing that willed her to close her eyes at night after extinguishing the lights, the one thing she could look forward to, knowing that at that exact state of consciousness she was at just now, everything was okay.

     But as all things good do not last long, especially, it seemed, for Ginny Weasley, just when that moment came, it was quickly gone. In it’s place was a scene she had seen many times before. The night terrors seemed just as authentic to Ginny as if they were real. Sometimes she would actually get confused and wonder where she was; in one of the constantly changing and horrendous dreams she had every night, or awake and experiencing real life. Certainly there was little difference between the two, it seemed.

     Tonight she was standing on a small hill, in the distance was a very tall and tilted building. This made her smile...home. The Burrow. The place she had grown up in with her 6 wonderful, yet overprotective brothers, each with his own very defined personality of which Ginny had come to love for each of their own differing qualities. Home was such a wonderful word. It encompassed everything that meant anything to her. She was raised by the most wonderful, yet admittingly odd, parents any girl could wish to have. And that is where she had first seen Harry. Harry Potter, “The Boy Who Lived”.

     Just then, with that reminder, Ginny’s thoughts jumped. She was smiling and thinking about her wonderful family, as if they were alive, instead of what she would do if any of them died. Certainly this was a first, she hadn’t done that in a very long time. Such a long time in fact she couldn’t remember exactly the last time she had.

     And suddenly everything changed. She was still on the hill overlooking her beloved Burrow, but the air felt so thick with sadness she could barely hold herself up. Rain lashed down and soon she was soaked to the bone in icy cold water. The rain hurt as the wind picked up and it lashed against the exposed skin of her face and arms. She heard a rustle behind her and turned, startled to see 8 stones that she had never seen before sticking up out of the ground. Each had a name on it, nothing more. The rain was so heavy she had to move closer to see exactly what each one read.

     A strangled cry escaped her lips as she approached the first grave marking. Arthur Weasley was written simply on the stone. Ginny sunk to her knees, sobbing. “Dad...please, no.” Suddenly she remembered, there were seven other stones. Steadying herself and gasping for breath, she rose and approached the next; Molly Weasley. Again Ginny could not stop the agonizing scream of anguish escape her mouth as she read the name. Her parents, gone. Her tears were masked by the sheets of water running down her face caused by the rain. She was trembling, from shock as well as the cold. She didn’t need to look at each of the other six stones to see what was written on each, but felt compelled to do so. The despair and unimaginable sadness she was feeling at discovering both of her parents were dead seemed to be constricting her airway as she struggled to breath, to function at all. But she had to see, to make sure...

     Slowly she rose from her position on the ground beneath her mother’s grave, and moved onward, only stopping at each grave long enough to read the name and move on even faster to the next, needing to know, her worst fears coming to life as she read; Bill Weasley ...Charlie Weasley... Percy Weasley...Fred Weasley...George Weasley... Ron Weasley...and with that she fell crippled at her closest brother’s grave stone. Her whole family, gone. She had no one, she was alone. Everyone she loved was dead. There was no reason to live. The grief was unbearable. It gripped at her and threatened to conquer. Her brain couldn’t take in all that she had just seen, it had been too much. Sobs washed over her body just as the rain did. It lashed against her small and defeated form as if it wanted to cause more harm, to hurt her even more. That isn’t possible, she thought, as she continued to weep. There was nothing worse than the grief that gripped her whole body, her heart, her spirit. It felt as if she was being torn slowly into tiny shreds. Though she felt as if she would rather die than continue feeling as she did, one thought did occur to her; Nothing worse can happen to me, if I can just live through this as my family would want me to, I will never feel this way again...it’s over. I can finally just go on with my life. Perhaps start a new family, with Harry.

     “I don’t think that will be possible, my little one.” The voice made Ginny’s insides freeze. It was cold and filled with hatred, loathing, yet at the same time a wicked bit of humor was noticeable. Knowing what she was going to find when she turned to the voice behind her, Ginny stopped her crying and slowly inched her hand down to her wand. This was the thing that had killed everyone that she loved, this was the thing that was causing her such unbearable pain, pain beyond even that of the Cruciatus Curse. She knew she had almost no chance of winning against him, but she would face him without fear, just as her now dead parents and brothers had.

     With surprising speed Ginny grasped her wand, stood up, and turned around, ready for anything but what she actually saw. It was indeed Lord Voldemort that was standing behind her, that had said those words, but he was not alone. At his feet was the disfigured body of a man. A man with untidy black hair and thick, round glasses. Ginny, again filled with terror beyond what she thought possible, leapt at the boy. He can’t be dead, he can’t be...

     “Oh, but he is,” said the cold voice from above, this time with a definite laugh in his voice, “Some had their doubts but here is the proof. I am grander than any Wizard, it is laughable to think that such a boy could defeat me. It was quite pitiful really. I gathered up these miserable excuses for Wizards and a fat little Witch,” he said, gesturing to the graves before him. “And killed each one slowly. Harry was bound and wandless, he could only watch as I did so. Quite amusing to see, he tried and tried to unbind himself as I tortured each one in turn, but he could do nothing. Tears slid down his cheeks and he pleaded, begged, for me to stop. He got especially frantic when I started on his little friend..Ron, was it? And in the end it was quite easy. He had given up fighting after I killed all of the redheads. I just thought you might want to know how your beloved Harry had died, whimpering and shaking on the ground.

     “So, as you can see, I don’t think it will be possible to start a new family with Harry. He is dead.” And though she tried to convince herself otherwise, Ginny knew it was true. Harry had lost. His face was bruised and his nose looked crooked and broken, not yet dried blood covering it. His limbs were completely limp and his chest neglected to rise and fall. “There will be no more Potters in this world, or Weasleys for that matter, once I am done with you. But first, I must add to our little stone garden here...”And Lord Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it at a spot just next to Ron’s grave and another identical stone popped up, blank. Ginny watched as he pointed at Harry and then back to the grave. She grasped at his hand, but it disintegrated along with the rest of his body, and floated to the grave, seeming to seep into the earth. And as she watched the last particles disappear into the earth underneath the blank grave the name Harry Potter shone on it in bright green for a second, before dimming and simply becoming an engraving on the stone. Ginny Weasley’s sobs could again be heard as she looked at the nine tomb stones that marked the final resting places of each and every person she had ever loved...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

     Ginny woke with a start, a great roll of thunder echoed as she sat up in bed. A thick sheen of cold sweat covered her entire body, and her face was drenched in salty tears. Her eyes stung as she opened them, and remembered, vividly, what she had just seen. That one was a dream, Ginny, calm down, she thought as she tried to get her breathing under control. She glanced out of her tiny bedroom window and the same feeling of dread she had felt in the nightmare enveloped her as she saw the faint outline of a hill..the hill she had just seen the nine graves on.

     With absolutely no rational thought in her mind she raced out of her room and thundered down the stairs. Throwing the front door open she ran towards the spot where the graves had been. The familiar feeling of stinging rain lashing against her skin sent her into an even greater frenzy as she sprinted up the hill, certain she would see nine identical looking graves, each with the name of one of her loved ones engraved upon it.

     But when she finally reached the top of the grassy hill, soaking wet now so that water dripped off of her in tiny torrents, she found nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing from her mad dash to get to the top of the hill, and tired from so many endless nights of little to no sleep, she finally collapsed of fatigue. In the exact same spot she had kneeled over Harry’s lifeless and mangled body.

         Hours later, or so it appeared, Ginny woke slowly, dazed and confused. She was cold and wet, though her left hand was surprisingly warm. Without moving, or even opening her eyes, she tried to compose herself, figure out what had happened. She had had another nightmare...yeah that’s right, and it was on top of a hill...eight graves, no nine! Eight first, and then nine when Harry’s was added...Harry, he was still at his Uncle’s house...she had been holding his hand, and she instinctively squeezed, to find that she was actually holding someone’s hand...Oh, God no...

     “Oi, Ginny! Where are you?” Ginny wrenched herself up, still gripping the hand. Attached to it was an arm, and a body. The body of a boy with messy hair and round glasses. Ginny quickly lunged over him and tears jumped to her eyes, falling down her pink freckled cheeks. The boy moved and Ginny’s stomach lurched.

     “There you are!” Ginny looked up and saw Ron, thank Merlin, he is okay too. “What’re you doin...Harry! Bloody hell what are you doing here?! You aren’t due here for another 4 days! Why’re you two holding hands? And you are both soaking wet, and in pajamas! I am so confused, you two had better get changed and act like you were in bed or else...”

     What would happen if they did not get changed and pretend as if they had been in the Burrow the whole time was not important to either Ginny or Harry. They looked down at their tightly clasped hands and then stared into each other’s eyes, then they both quickly turned to where Ginny had seen the graves. What had just happened?