I’ll Be Seeing You

A/N: Lyrics are from the song “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Sammy Fain and Irving Kahal.  I sang this song in my Jazz Choir and it has been stuck in my head, story in tow, for a few months now.  Thanks to my beta, Zsenya, as well as BeatriceEagle and moose for reading it. 

He wasn’t supposed to die.  Everything had gone as planned.  He had promised her that everything would be fine, and it had been.  They had worked out every detail, every possible problem.  Hermione herself had said that there was nothing that could go wrong.  And it had been fine; everything had been perfect.  But how could they have known what would happen next?

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

Ginny sat on the floor in the Gryffindor common room, her legs pulled up against her chest in a tight embrace.  It was strange, seeing the common room so quiet and empty while the sun was still up.  She’d never been to Hogwarts during the summer, and had never quite been able to picture it without hundreds of students laughing and talking and walking through the halls.  Now that she had seen it this way, she wasn’t sure if she liked it.  There was an eerie sort of calm in the castle that had followed her as she trudged up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.  Even Peeves was absent, most likely detained by the ghosts, who had been kind enough to not bother her on this warm July day. 

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.

He had fought hard, she thought to herself as she walked out of the common room, unable to bear the silence any longer.  That’s what everyone said about anyone who had died.  “They fought long and hard.  They didn’t deserve to die.”  But who deserved to die?  Voldemort, she thought.  Yes, Voldemort had deserved to die.  She could say that without a twinge of guilt.  But Harry Potter?  No, the newspapers said he shouldn’t have died.  The day after his unexpected death, the Daily Prophet’s headlines had screamed about the misfortune, the tragedy, the horrible shock of his death.  After killing Voldemort, who would have thought that an angry Death Eater would murder him while he slept in his newly rented flat?  Who would have expected that mad Bellatrix Lestrange would escape from the Aurors a mere hour after being captured? 

They should have expected it, Ginny thought as she walked down the wide staircase to the ground level.  She stopped as she came to the last step, staring at the grand doors that led to the Great Hall.  A smile lit her face for a split second as she remembered the times she had sat at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

Ron and Hermione were the lucky ones, Ginny thought, looking away from the doors.  They would live a happy life together, and have a dozen beautiful red-haired children.  Hermione would do something impressive; while Ron would…Ginny shook her head, grinning.  What would Ron do?  Become an Auror, as Harry wanted to do?  As Harry should have done? 

She hated to say that it wasn’t fair, but it wasn’t.  He had defeated Voldemort!  Tom Riddle!  The papers all around the wizarding world had cheered him on, exclaiming the wonder of The Boy Who Lived.  She remembered how he had picked her up and kissed her all over that night at the Burrow.  And how he had knelt on one knee…

Ginny wiped a tear from her eye.  There was no use thinking about a future that couldn’t happen. 

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

She walked slowly down the steps of the school, the sun’s rays hitting the calm surface of the lake and bouncing into her eyes.  She stepped onto the damp grass and breathed in deeply, taking in the day. 

It was time to move on.  For a year, she had grieved with her family and the rest of the wizarding world.  But time had passed, and the world had moved on.  Hermione had stopped giving her looks of pity, and instead was telling her about different jobs she could get.  Her mother had told her too many times that she had to move on.  They had all loved Harry, but a year?  It was too much. 

Ron had suggested the visit.  He was a good brother, Ginny reckoned, despite their many arguments.  He had mentioned it one night, popping into her room before going upstairs to sleep.  She had thought about it for a month, tossing and turning at night, her dreams haunted with visions of Harry at Hogwarts.  And today she had given in.  She needed to see the castle one last time.  She needed to accept that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who had loved her, was dead, gone, and would never return. 

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.