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I Remember by Ladywolf

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,441

Rating: 12+
Warnings: No Warnings

Genres: General
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny
Pairings: Harry/Ginny

First Published: 05/05/2007
Last Chapter: 05/08/2008
Last Updated: 04/21/2014


Thanks to Shalena at TDA for the lovely banner!!

Ten years after his death, someone discusses what they remember about Harry Potter.

This was written before DH was released, so it does not take DH canon into account.

Chapter 1: I Remember
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Chapter Image by Me

I Remember

Everyone remembers The Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One or The Man Who Defeat the Dark Lord. They remember that his parents died on Halloween of 1980 and for the next ten years he lived in the muggle world with his mother’s family. They remember that he bore a scar shaped as a lightning bolt on his forehead. They remember that on January 24 of 1999 he defeat Tom Marvolo Riddle, or Lord Voldemort to most of the world. They remember that in the final battle with Voldemort Harry Potter gave his life. 

But that is not what I remember, that’s not at all what I remember when I think of Harry Potter. I remember that he adored treacle tart, it was his favorite dessert. Whenever treacle tart was being served Harry could out eat Ron, and believe me that is saying something. And chocolate frogs, Harry loved chocolate frogs. 

I remember how he absolutely loved anything Quidditch related, how his face lit up when he was flying and all the worries and burdens he always carried on his young shoulders seemed forgotten. I remember how dead scared he was before his first game. He wouldn’t eat, he was so pale, I thought he’d faint and Fred and George’s wonderfully timed remarks did not help one bit. Ron and I had to practically force him to drink a goblet of pumpkin juice and take a bite of toast and then he was so quiet as we walked down to the pitch, you’d think we were marching him to his execution. I remember the expression on his face after that first game as he held the snitch high over his head: shock, pure joy, pride. 

I remember how much he enjoyed teaching us in the DA in our fifth year when that awful woman took over Hogwarts. I truly believe if he had lived he would have become a teacher. I remember how much his eternally untidy hair frustrated him, and how he blushed to rival a Weasley when I mentioned that a lot of the girls at Hogwarts thought his hair was quite sexy. 

I remember how unbelievably stubborn he could be, it was infuriating sometimes. But I also remember how loyal he was, how kind and brave, how he gave without any thought of gain. I remember how he loved unconditionally. I remember how he considered his friends as his family and how easily caring for others came to him. I remember how humble he was and how much he hated being the center of attention and being famous for something he had no control over. It frustrated him, angered him, all Harry ever wanted was a normal life. Why, why couldn’t he have it? I don’t know. 

I remember his face every time he came back from his horrible relative’s home: the sad, defeated, lonely look reflected in his vivid green eyes. I remember wishing that I could take away his pain, his sadness, his responsibilities. I wished that he did not have to go back to the Dursley’s every year. I remember that he only cried three times in the seven years I knew him: when his godfather, Sirius, died, when Dumbledore died, and when he first looked upon the ruins of his parents’ home in Godric’s Hollow. I remember how much the idea of losing the people he loved scared him more than anything else and how he blamed himself for every casualty of the war and how the desire for others to live drove him to end it that much sooner. 

I remember the soft melody of his laugh, the warmth of his smile, the quiet tone of his voice. I remember the mischievous glint that sparkled in his emerald eyes whenever he was up to no good. 

I remember how he loved only one girl with all his heart and every breath. Had lived I know he and Ginny Weasley would have gotten married within a year. They were so perfect for each other; she really brought out the best in him. With her I saw Harry truly happy for the first time ever. Yes, he had laughed before, he had smiled and joked, but when he was with Ginny it was different. His eyes lit up every time he saw her, something that could only be described as pure and true love radiated from his entire body. Every touch, every look, every smile that those two shared, that was real magic. With her Harry forgot about the prophecy, he forgot about the war and Voldemort and horcruxes and every other burden he carried, he forgot that he was the Chosen One. With Ginny Harry was just Harry, he was as he should have always been able to be, just a normal young man in love. 

I remember the day he died. There are some things you can never forget, they are ingrained so deeply, so vividly in your memory that they will affect every decision you make for the rest of your life; losing Harry changed everything. 

He died in her arms; Ginny was beside herself with grief, even now ten years later she still grieves and none of us can do anything to help her. The others were still lost in the dying battle, so only Ron, Ginny, and I were with him as he gave his last breath. Harry was smiling, if you could believe that, he looked at each of us and said “I did it, he’s gone.” 

I nodded, “I know you did, I’m so proud of you Harry.” 

Ron was crying, I think besides Ginny Harry’s death hit him the hardest. Harry turned to him, “thanks for being my best mate, Ron, I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” 

Ron could hardly talk at that point but he managed to choke out a response, “thanks for letting me sit with you on the train Harry, you’re my sixth brother, mate.” 

Harry turned to me, “Hermione, you’re the sister of my heart, I love you so much.”
I smiled through my tears, “I love you too Harry, you’ll always be my brother.” 

He reached out and squeezed my hand; I kissed his cold, pale knuckles in a final farewell. And then he turned to look up at Ginny. “I love you Ginny, I always will. I’m just sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” 

“Harry,” she said, “you can’t, you can’t die not after all this, you don’t deserve it.” 

Harry shushed her, his smile never once faltering, “Ginny-love, don’t cry, its okay, it’s going to be okay. I’m sorry I have to leave you, but I’ll always be with you in spirit, you will always feel my presence. Just promise me you’ll live a long and happy life, I don’t want you to stop living just because I’m not here. I’ll be waiting for you, love.” 

Ginny kissed him and cradled him to her, “I love you too Harry, I always will.” 

Harry closed his eyes, a look of peace came across his youthful features, “I love you all.” I remember that those were the last words Harry ever said. 

I remember his funeral; it was a small private affair, with only Harry’s closest friends just as he would have wanted. Ginny had thrown a fit when the Minister came to the Burrow requesting that the funeral for the Boy Who Lived should be open to the public. Between her and Molly they ran him out of the house and made sure there would be no way Rufus Scrimgeour would dare make an appearance. 

We buried him in Godric’s Hollow next to his parents and the memorial for Sirius that Remus and Harry had had erected the year before. Of course nobody had a dry eye; even Mad-Eye Moody was teary-eyed. Remus gave a speech along with Ron, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and me, half-way through it he broke down into tears and through he finished with great difficulty he didn’t speak for the rest of the day not even to Tonks. That was the first and only time I ever saw Remus Lupin actually cry. We said our last goodbyes and laid Harry to rest in peace with his family. 

I don’t remember the Boy Who Lived, I don’t remember the Chosen One, I don’t remember the Man Who Defeat the Dark Lord. I remember a boy who gave his life so that others could live. I remember my best friend, the most loyal and true friend anyone could ever ask for. I remember my brother. I remember Harry, just Harry.