"Mine" A Hinny Fanfiction❤ COMPLETED ️ {BOOK 1}

The final stand

So the picture above^^ is the next one shot I will be writing and hoping that you all will like it 😳 but anyway, this is my Final chapter. Sadly I will not be continuing this book. Maybe I will do a sequel but not sure yet.

I am really sadden at this end because this book was my all time favourite.

The others were rubbish and I will be removing them.

So thank you all indeed for reading this book, it was some plot twist and I will be finishing "One year" and my one shots will be more like 7?
So that's enough and then I am done writing. I will not be starting another book. But it's good news to those who write so i will have a chance to READ YOUR BOOKS! So message me or anyway you want and I will read them!

I will only bore you all if I continue, but I am having a thought about doing two extra chapters? I don't know yet.

Ginny stood, straight backed up proud, wand in hand, facing away from the row of bodies. Ron was on her left, holding Hermione's hand and Neville was to her right, every inch the warrior.

Their hour was up, and Harry had gone to face Voldemort. Ginny cast her eyes about the throng of people in the yard, most of whom had adopted similar positions in front of the bodies and the injured.
She shoved her mind angrily away from thoughts of Fred and Tonks and Lupin and concentrated instead on the buzz in the air, the fear and adrenaline.

She suppressed a frustrated snort, but Neville noticed anyway. He glanced sideways at her.

"He's got a plan, Gin."

She blinked, and Neville cracked a grin.

"Harry. He's got a plan. All we have to do is kill the bastard's dirty great snake, and we'll win. Harry's got it all under control, don't you worry."

Ginny managed to crack a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She reached out and gave his hand a tentative squeeze. "Thanks, Nev."

"No problem."

They didn't have a hope in hell, really. With Voldemort about to join the battle in seconds, all most of them could hope for was to die fighting, knowing they'd given their lives for a cause greater than themselves. Cliché it may have been, but it was the death Ginny had always wished for. She could have hoped to be a bit older, but Ginny would far rather have died on the battlefield then grow old knowing she'd hidden in a broom closet.

Her mind strayed to Harry. Harry, and the kiss they'd last shared, a while ago in the hallway. Harry, and his stupid nobility that had prevented them from sharing another, Harry and his glasses and his ridiculous hair that she just ached to run her fingers through once again and his quirky way of smiling, when he'd lift just the corner of his mouth...

Harry.

"Harry Potter is dead."

For the first few seconds, there was nothing. No words, no actions. No thought. Just Voldemort's sibilant hiss echoing through the court yard.

Ron and Hermione glanced uncertainly at each other as Ginny frowned, shaking her head. Nevile, however, grinned and nudged her in the side.

"The plan, remember?"

Of course, Harry's plan. It was a trick, of course it was. Harry, who had escaped Voldemort countless times before, could not be dead.

It just wasn't possible.