This Is Not Goodbye

One-Shot

Harry knew he'd probably never see her again. Harry knew it was ridiculous to hope- even for a second- that one day they'd be happy again together.

He shook the thought from his head: what was the use of applying false hope? But then again... There she was, doing something as simple as helping out her mum set up for the wedding, and Harry imagined what it'd be like if none of this other business was going on. If he wasn't on the run from Voldemort, if the Ministry wasn't so prejudice, if Dumbledore was still alive.

If he hadn't broken up with Ginny the previous year.

It wasn't a choice he liked making, and Ginny knew that. Harry's mind wandered back to earlier that morning, where he and Ginny had shared passionate kisses.

He stood there, in the doorway of the kitchen, as she came in and out through the door, grabbing plates and decorations and things for the wedding.

A wild thought floated into Harry's mind: what if, one day, they could have this? He scolded himself.

Don't. It's unrealistic to be having thoughts like that.

But he let his thoughts carry him off. And he saw her, walking down the aisle, in a beautiful white dress, her red hair falling over her shoulders...

"Harry, dear, could you fetch some more lawn chairs from the attic?" Mrs. Weasley burst into the kitchen excitedly. "Oh! Yes, of course!"

He jogged quickly up the many stairs and into the attic. The ghoul in the corner with the red bumps all over his face paid no attention to him. Harry grabbed three or four of the chairs, but they were difficult to carry.

"Harry? Are you up there?"

Harry recognized her voice: Ginny. She made her way into the attic and looked at him. "Oh, there you are. Ron's, erm, looking for you." Harry shifted nervously, thinking of what Ron could possibly want right now, although it was probably another chapter in Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches.

He looked at Ginny for what seemed like only a second. "What?" She asked. "Have I got something on my face?"

Harry sighed, and then shuffled over to Ginny and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder.

Ginny hugged him back tightly, knowing fully well this could be the last moment that they spent alone together.

"Ginny... I love you." And it just sort of came out, those three words, uttered from his lips as if he'd practiced it a thousand times over. "I love you too," she whispered.

She pressed her lips to his, filling him with a boost of hope and comfort.

"Come on," Ginny said. "Let's go outside before Mum starts to wonder where we are." He gripped her hand tightly, ready to face the world for whatever it might throw at him.