A/N - Well, it's been a very, very long time since I've come out with anything new. I recently saw this poem posted on a myspace account that was paying tribute to a young girl who had been murdered. It is a very well-written piece and inspired me to write this. My condolences to everyone involved in that tragedy.

The poem used is NOT mine, nor are the characters mentioned. I don't do this for the money, folks, that's the way it is. Please review - I know that often you're too lazy, because Merlin knows I've been in the same boat. But really, it makes all the difference and means the world to me. So, please, just hit the button at the bottom and say 'good job' or 'you suck!' or anything of the sort. Well, maybe not ANYTHING . . .

Enough from me, go on and read the story.

A.

Forever and a Day

by: Manda M.

Ginny,

I am never going to leave you. Ever. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an optimist. I know what the world holds, for everyone. But especially for me. I'm the one, love. The only one. Nobody else can do what I have to. I know that you think I'm stupid and noble. Bloody hell, you've told me time and again for two years already. But sometimes, being stupid and noble is what gets the job done. And trust me, I'd rather be accused of having those character flaws than deal with whatever might happen to you because I suddenly stopped being all stupid and noble.

Wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Gin. I know that by now they're probably falling and smudging these words. Don't I just know you so well? Great Gods, love, writing this is killing me. I can only imagine how you are feeling reading this. Because it means . . . it means that I've gone and done what I was destined to do since that night 17 years ago. I'm going to give this to your Mum when I'm done writing. I know she'll do the right thing if anything . . . well, when it needs to get to you.

You have given me so much in such a short period of time. And I never got to say thank you for that. Thank you for showing me how to love someone - truly love someone. Love someone like it's the only thing that matters, all that will ever matter. Thank you for bringing me so completely into your family, and for showing me what family really is. Thank you for giving me the greatest first-time experiences anyone could ever ask for (cheers to you being the only one who understands that part ... )

I hope you're not crying too much. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you, okay? I hope you know that. And, love, you have to promise me something. Promise me that you're going to find someone to be happy with. And don't go pulling the lot about how you'll never be happy with anyone else. I know we had something special, but I also know that just because I'm gone, doesn't mean you have to be alone for the rest of your life. There are so many blokes out there that could give you a really great life.

Please, Ginny, for me. I've got to know that you'll accept this when it comes. When, not if. I'm scared out of my fucking mind right now, and all I can think about it how lovely it would feel if I could wrap myself up in your blanket like I did that night. Do you remember that night, Ginny? I know you do. I'll never forget it. Never forget the way you looked when you opened the door, hair tousled and rubbing your eyes. But you weren't shocked at my appearance. That was the best night of my life, baby. I hope it was the same for you.

Though I know that nothing will ever compare to what the two of us shared, I do know one thing. This was bound to happen sooner or later, and I had a feeling that sooner would come much too quickly. You were too eager to deny that fact, and I know that you're in pain right now reading this. But please don't cry for long. Don't let your heart be caught in grief for years. It will eat at you slowly, killing you from the inside out.

It seems impossible, I know that, sweet. But it's not. Because, really, I'm not gone. I will always be with you. Forever. Because the two of us - well, it's going to take a lot more than death to break us apart. And at any rate, I'll be with you forever and a day. Because I'm in everything that you see. I'll be the breeze that blows your hair into your face, just that certain way. I'm that very first snowflake that falls at the start of winter, and the very last one that melts away at the end. You can find me in the lush, green grasses of the Quidditch pitch behind the Burrow. And when the sun warms your face, making your freckles stand out in a pattern like the stars, you know that's me.

But there's an even more important place that you can find me, Gin. You can find me inside of you. Everywhere inside of you is where I live. And your heart - your heart if full of me, darling. I know it is. Don't ever doubt that for a second. It's getting very late. I can barely keep my eyes open. You're laying next to me, sound asleep, and for the life of me, I can't find the reason anymore. Can't find the reason that will explain why I would ever want to leave something as perfect as this behind.

But now, I realize. That if I don't leave,and do this,then everything won't be perfect for much longer. The least I can do is create a world where you'll be safe. Without me, you'll be safe. So, my Ginny, my love, it's time for this to end. I've probably kept you for more than half an hour reading this already. Please remember everything that this letter tells you. It is more important than you will ever know. You are the love of my life, and I know that we'll see each other some day soon. I love you forever and a day.

Harry

A weathered, grey-haired witch felt tears moisten the corners of her eyes as she read the last sentence scribbled upon the aged and yellowing parchment. Quickly, she wiped them away. Ginny Thomas hadn't cried in four years, and she wasn't about to start now.

The field in which she stood was empty. Completely bare, except for a single white lily that had recently been placed on a slightly rounded portion of the was the only shrine that remained for The Boy Who Lived. He had requested that his body be placed in a field near the Burrow, far away from the heart of Wizarding society. The last thing he wanted was more recognition, even in death.

Ginny was suddenly overcome with nostalgia and lowered herself slowly to her knees in front of the tiny hill. It wasn't as easy for her to get around as it used to be. She was nearing her seventieth birthday, and could feel the age creeping up on her.

She reverently placed both of her hands against the cool grass, wet with morning dew. It was well before six in the morning, but that didn't matter. Her husband, Dean, wouldn't be up for at least two more hours. And their five children were all grown with homes of their own. No one knew where she was.

"Oh, Harry . . . " Ginny trailed off. She had made it a tradition to come and visit his grave every year on the day he'd died. Every twenty-third of September, she would manage to sneak out of the house for at least an hour to visit the field and just sit there. Sometimes, she would talk. She'd talk about the past year's events. One year, she had happened to be pregnant with her first child. She had stayed there, sitting on the grass with her hands cradling her stomach, crying for three solid hours until her mother had found her and brought her home.

True to Harry's word, though, it got easier with time. Merlin, she never stopped loving the boy. But every year it seemed that a little piece of her would remain better intact than the year previous.

"Harry, I've done everything that you wanted me to. I moved on . . . as best I could. I got married, I made my own family. But I'm ready to let go, love. I'm ready to see you again."

Ginny had been thinking a lot in the past few weeks. Thinking about her life - how well off she was. She had married Dean Thomas three years after Harry's death, and together they'd created wonderful children, all of whom had successful lives and families of their own. She was . . . happy. Content, even. But never complete. No, never that.

Now, Ginny Weasley was ready to be whole as her head was resting against the soft earth, she whispered, "Forever and a day, love. Forever and a day."

Dean was the one who found her at 8:30 on a Sunday morning. He knew of her yearly visits to Harry's grave, so when she didn't return by breakfast, he became worried and set out in search of her.

Ginny was laying curled up at the foot of the small curve in the earth. In her hand, she clutched the piece of parchment that Dean knew to be Harry's last letter to her.

Fighting back tears, he gently pried it from his wife's hands and glanced at it. He knew the words well, had read them many times. Hell, if it weren't for that letter, Ginny probably wouldn't have married him. But there was something new. At the end, in Ginny's own straight, neat cursive was a short poem. He read it. And then he sat down and cried.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.