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The glass clinked at he set it on the small brown end table next the chair where he sat. The ice hadn't melted yet. Although he almost always finished his drinks before that had happened.
"That's your sixth today," Ginny mentioned as she laid a tray of food on the coffee table for him.
He cleared his throat and looked at the tray. "I didn't know you were keeping count."
She smiled. "I am always keeping count."
He reached over and took the fork off of the tray and poked it into his already-cut-steak. He half-cocked a smile. "Well, it's good to know I am being watched so closely. Don't want my drinking to get out of hand." He shoved a piece of steak into his mouth.
His wife sat down in the chair across from him and crossed her legs. She held a green coffee cup in her right hand that stirred itself with a spoon. "My sweet love, I'd definitely say that six drinks is already out of hand."
He smiled as he pulled the table closer to reach his food. "Your steak is awfully good tonight. What seasonings did you use? I don't even need a knife to cut it," he joked. Although he was used to this, having his wife cut his food for him. He wasn't allowed to use knives after the last time he had tried to slit his arm open.
Ginny slapped her thigh in jest as she brought her steaming coffee to her lips. "You are so funny. I forgot how funny you can be."
"Yeah, well, age does that to a man," he replied with a mouth full.
"After you're done, do you want to take a walk outside? It's a clear night. It's so warm for late April." She took another long pull of her coffee.
"Aren't you going to eat?" He gathered up the last of his baked potato on his fork and plunged it into his mouth.
She set her cup on the table. "I had a late lunch. C'mon. Let's go take a walk."
"Alright." He stood up and took his plate to the kitchen before grabbing his jacket to head outside with his wife.
He stepped out the back door, letting the screen door slam behind him, and found Ginny sitting on the steps of the porch.
"Would you look that that? There's not a cloud in the sky." She pointed up. Her red hair shone in the moonlight against her black coat, which was draped around her like a cloak.
"We don't even need a flashlight tonight," he said as he reached down to take her arm.
They walked together down cozy little Privet Drive. After the war, Harry thought it best to leave the magical world all together. Because everywhere he looked, he saw those that he had lost.
"Do you think it was a mistake to move here?" he quietly asked her, knowing her answer as he had asked many times before.
She squeezed his arm. "Of course not. It's quiet here. Simple. But I always wonder how long it will last. Doesn't living here give you bad memories?"
After the Dursleys went into hiding during the war, they decided to never come back. They were content to be as far away from the life they left behind as they could. So Harry had the house all to himself. "No. Well, sometimes. I mean, now that we're here and it's been so long, I see it as our house, not the one where I was stuck living under the stairs for so many years."
Ginny nodded. "I agree, it is our home. But you know it's hard for me a little bit. Growing up around wizards and all that. You grew up around muggles, so it's easier for you."
Harry shifted his weight and took her hand. "I know. And I know keeping you at home with me can't last forever." He looked up to the stars as he walked.
"No, it can't. I want to work again, perhaps to go back to the Daily Prophet. I want to have children. It's been seven years, Harry. How long will be long enough?" She said these things with no malice, with no pushing. She never pushed Harry, knowing how fragile he was and probably always will be.
They paused at the end of the street where he had saw Sirius for the first time many years ago. He turned to face her, wiping her hair from her eyes and sighed. "I just don't know. I can't....I don't know how...."
She pulled him into her. "I know, sweetheart. I know. I love you, you know that. And you know I'll wait forever if I have to."
And thing was, he knew that was the truth. He knew she'd live in that odd little house of his on that odd little road with all the odd little muggle neighbors till the end of time if she had to. All just for him. This made him both very happy and horribly sad at the same time.
In the beginning, she took to living the muggle life quite easily. She got together with the neighbors for block parties and helped in the community garden. She even took a couple of the elderly women shopping once a week and afterwards held tea at their house with them in the garden. But deep down, he knew she wasn't as happy as she pretended to be. He knew she longed for the life she left a long time ago.
It wasn't fair to keep her there. It wasn't fair to either of them or to their friends who were still alive.
He hadn't seen them with regularity for years now. Except Edward (whom they lovingly called "Teddy"). Though as Harry's drinking increased, Ginny took the responsibility of keeping the Professor Lupin's company more and more. She took him once a month to see her parents and to visit her brother George and his wife Angelina. More often than not, Ginny spent more of her time with Edward in his town than in her own. This meant Harry hardly ever saw him at all, as he hadn't been out of Little Whinging in years.
Recently he had been having nightmares about Remus. Watching him die and Remus begging Harry to be the godfather of his child. And at first it was easy. He took to the boy right away and for a long time, they were inseparable. But as Harry's depression took over him, he found less interest in things one once loved. One thing being Edward. He told himself that the boy would be better off without him, because if something bad had happened to Harry that Edward would be heartbroken.
Odds were, though, then nothing bad would happen to Harry, as all the threats had been dealt with. All except one.
Ginny stared off into the distance. "Harry, I need to ask you something. It's important."
He sat on the curb and started at the swings. An eerie de ja vu came over him. "Yes?"
She sat down next to him and took his hands.
"Wow, this must be really important," he joked.
"Listen. My father called me today to tell me something. It's time. In two weeks, it's her turn."
Harry pulled his hands away and stood up. "What? Already?"
"Harry, Azkaban has been rid of all the death eaters. And all the people who have been a part of the war. Every single person who had a stake in overthrowing Hogwarts and Ministry of Magic and those who sided with Voldemort have been executed. It's her turn."
After the war, rather than keep Azkaban open and risk an uprising again, they decided to execute all of the prisoners.
"After she's gone, they can close it for good. And that chapter of our history will be over," she continued.
He stared at her. "Over?"
She sighed. "You know what I mean. It can't happen again. With all the security precautions put into place and the total revamping of Hogwarts' policy, there is little to no chance of anything like that happening again. For those of us who remember, it will never be over. But once she's gone, she's the last one. And that's it. There will be not one person left who was affiliated with the wrong side of things."
Harry's thought drifted to Malfoy. His family was executed two years after the war. Every single one, except him. He knew that even though his family was on the executing side of the war back then, that now Draco must be fighting his own demons, just as Harry was. "When will it happen? What day?"
"On Sunday. May 15. Three o'clock in the afternoon. And that's not it."
Harry sighed and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "And what else is there?"
"Well, of course they want to know if we'll go to the execution. Ron and Hermione will be there. As will my entire family. Actually all of Hogwarts staff, new and old will be gone. Actually, I'll be surprised if any witch or wizard alive won't be there," she ran her hand over his shoulder.
"That's a given."
"But the other part is something bigger than all that. It's much more important."
"Out with it, then. I can handle it."
"I hope so," she searched his eyes for the truth.
"I can. I promise. I mean, last person alive who took part in the biggest horrific thing in our history will be executed. What could honestly be bigger than that?"
She gently smiled. "They want you to do it, Harry. They want you to be the one to execute her when the time comes. That is if you want to."
All happiness drained from Harry's face and he felt his entire body go cold. "They want what?!"
She reached up to take his hands again, but he yanked them away. "You don't have to, Harry. They just want to give you the option. That's all."
"What kind of option is that?! Why...what....arrgggh!" he screamed as he stomped off toward home.
Ginny ran to catch up to him. "Listen to me! You do not have to do this. We can pretend like I never told you about it."
He glared at her. "But you did, didn't you? You did tell me about and now you want to pretend to forget? Are you mad?"
"No, I just don't want you to go off the deep end!"
Harry threw his head back in fake laughter. "You mean like having six drinks? That kind of deep end? Well, sorry honey, I might go home and have another after hearing about this!"
She stopped in her tracks. "You know what I mean!" she screamed after him, tears running down her face.
He slowed down and kicked a can that was in the road. "That will not happen again. I promise you that."
Ginny, now heaving with sobs, dropped to her knees. "I knew shouldn't have told you! You can't promise me anything! You did it once, so you can easily do it again!"
Harry knew he should go back. To console her. To hold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But that would be a lie. And he knew it. He had no idea if everything was going to be okay. He had no idea if he'd go home right now, down the rest of his bottle, and find a knife to finish the job he started and didn't finish.
He brushed the spot on his coat where the notebook lay, bulging out to make a rectangle shape he was always keenly aware of. It was his penance for not dying, to keep alive the names and faces of those who were slain. To always have them on him, to be aware of their once existence, to never forget. He knew he had to live in order to see this woman die. But beyond that, he didn't know if he'd be next or not. But to be the one who killed her? He'd already killed enough, why were they asking for another? Why would Ginny think it was okay to ask him to do this? He moved to muggle-land for a reason: to get away from all the dying and murdering. Granted, there were no more murders, but there were memories of them. And that was enough. That was too much. This was too much.
Harry ran in the other direction, leaving Ginny at the end of the road. He felt horrible, but he needed a drink. That would calm him. That would soothe his tortured soul. It always did. It kept his demons at bay.
He grabbed the bottle from his liquor cabinet and downed the last of it into his stomach. He then grabbed his blankets from the bed and went out to the garden hammock to sleep.
As he laid on his back and stared up at the bright and starry night, he rubbed the back of his hand. It burned for some reason. He tried to shut the memories of that toad-faced woman out of his head. But even being on his way to drunk didn't help. But soon, he felt that familiar warmth spread throughout his body and he knew sleep was on its way.
If Dolores Umbridge was going to die, then he wasn't going to think about it until morning. All he wanted to do was fall into a dreamless sleep and wash the pain away with his whisky. The whisky was doing its job, and he hoped the hammock would follow suit.
By the time Ginny walked through the door, Harry was snoring in the moonlight.
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