Lifeline - 4

"I had a bit of an epiphany when Ron told us what happened and how you all went after that object You-Know-Who left behind. I realized that I could never have stopped Ginny if she was determined to do something. Ever since she was a small child, she had her own mind. I have a special look – my 'mum-look', if you will. I could always cow the boys with that look – except for Fred and George, mind – but it also never worked on Ginny. I can see her with her hands on her hips, pigtails bouncing on her head and a scowl on her face if I tried to get her to do something she didn't want to do," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling sadly.

Harry snorted. He could picture just the look Ginny would've had on her childish face.

"You couldn't have stopped her, either, Harry. No matter how much you want to protect her, she's her own person, and she's determined to make her own decisions. Somehow, when I wasn't looking, my little girl has grown into exactly the kind of woman I'd always hoped to raise her to be. This isn't your fault any more than it's my fault – or Ginny's fault for wanting to do the right thing. The fault lies with You-Know-Who alone."

Harry looked at the floor, breathing deeply. Although he tried to stop it, he couldn't help it, and a small sniffle escaped.

Mrs. Weasley leaned over and kissed the crown of his head. "Why don't we all wait outside in the corridor and give Harry a moment alone with Ginny," she said, ushering her family from the room.

Harry watched the slow, agonized rise and fall of Ginny's chest until the room was quiet. Slowly, he looked up to face her, lightly stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

"Ginny," he whispered, "you can't bail on me now. You promised. You promised you'd be here to show me how things are supposed to be. We're supposed to be happy and have time to do things together and grow old and make babies and…."

Annoyed, he swiped at his eyes and blinked again. He waited a moment, allowing his breathing to slow.

"You've got to see me through to the end of this. I need you to do that. I need you to remind me why."

He took off his glasses, unable to stop them from fogging and wiped his eyes again.

"It's strange…to need someone this way," he said, sniffling. He wanted to explain it to her properly, tell her how much she meant to him, but he couldn't get the words to form. "Strange in a good way, though. Oh, Ginny. I'm rubbish at this. You know that. You keep telling me about the life we're going to have after all this is over. I want that life. I want it with you."

He wiped his nose again, staring at a distant spot on the window until he could regain control.

"You need to be here to make that possible, so you fight. Don't give up. I know how much of a fighter you can be, and you need to fight now. Fight for all it's worth to get that happily ever after…and I promise to do the same. All right, Ginny? Can you do that for me?"

She hadn't moved, and her labored breathing hadn't changed. He wished desperately that her eyes would just flutter or that she'd squeeze his hand, but neither of those things happened.

He grasped her limp hand firmly and laced their fingers together. He rested his head on the bed beside her pillow, breathing in her scent.

"I'll hang on for both of us," he said softly.