In HBP Harry actually saw a short redhead girl who could single-handedly kick ass at Quidditch to a whole team of grown men and thought "Fuck, that's hot. I'm going to spend the next 600 pages pining for her."
Hey! I cooked something new! Or kinda old hehe... I know it is a bit lazy to just paint this movie scene, but I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to experiment with my style. Besides, three years ago (I think?) I already painted this movie scene, but with Gary Oldman instead. Back then I was not so used to paint men, especially from memory, but still wanted to paint Sirius & Harry, so I used it as a warm up for future book Sirius paintings.
I am so now that I can actually paint my own version of Sirius now 😊
You’re going to hate me for asking… heck I hate myself for asking but now my mind has gone down a rabbit hole and I NEED answers Bree!
1) How did Harry die?
2) Who was the first person on the other side to greet Harry?
3) Where was Ginny when he died?
4) Did they have one last shag? What I really want to know… did my man die from an orgasm? lol
5) How did Ginny die? 
6) Who was the first person on the other side to greet Ginny?
7) What was their reaction upon seeing each other in the other world?
I might be indirectly-intentionally trying to persuade you to write a one shot 😜
Hi, Anon!
Wow, a lot of questions!
Um....
Harry died of old age, peacefully in his bed next to his wife.
His parents -- Sirius first, then James and Lily and his whole family (parents, grandparents, etc)
Ginny was sleeping in bed next to him and she woke up a minute after he passed and she just knew. She curled into him, her cheek over his heart and told him she loved him even though he was already gone and she stayed with him until the morning before she called her children.
Absolutely. No, he did not die from an orgasm, but he was very relaxed and made love with his wife, told her he loved her, and held her in his arms before he went to sleep and never woke up again.
Ginny dies of a broken heart a few days after Harry because she's had an amazing life and her children and grandchildren have all grown up and even some of her great-grandchildren and she realizes she doesn't want to live in a world without Harry. Her family is sad, but when she goes in her sleep a few days later, no one is surprised.
Harry and standing next to him is Arthur Weasley.
Harry gave her a look and she only smiled and said, "I told you I wasn't going to let you die on me, Harry Potter." Then she hugged him tightly and then rushed into her father's outstretched arms.
Harry, lying face down on his bed: And I said "neat". Who the fuck says "neat"? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.
Hermione, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Harry. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember when Ron confessed his love for me?
Harry: Didn't you thank him?
Hermione, closing the book and staring up at the ceiling: I thanked him.
Harry was reading the Daily Prophet and sipping on his tea. Six-year-old James was eating his cereals whilst Ginny was coaxing a stubborn two-year-old Lily to eat some porridge. But all Lily was interested in were the blueberries. Harry’s four-year-old son Albus was peering around Harry, trying to look at the moving pictures whilst nibbling on his apple slices. Harry enjoyed Albus’s company and reading the paper with him.
Albus was at that innocent stage where he would ask questions and Harry would do his best to answer them no matter how daft they were. As Harry explained to Albus why the graduates from Durmstrang would climb all the way to the top of Mount Everest with the help of the Bubble-Head Charm, only for them to fly off on their brooms, something caught his eye.
It was a headline in the Daily Prophet.
Winner of the Daily Prophet Valentine’s poem competition, Ginny Potter:
His eyes are as green as a Fresh pickled toad, his hair is dark as a blackboard. And he is mine for he is truly divine, the hero who twice conquered the Dark Lord.
Harry was glad he wasn’t drinking any tea at that moment because he would’ve spat it out. He remembered the singing Valentine Ginny had sent him during his Second Year at Hogwarts when the dwarf had cornered him in the corridor in front of many people.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
“I see your entry won in that poem competition for the Daily Prophet,” he said casually. "I think I might've heard that one before."
Ginny was halfway feeding porridge to a sulking Lily and looked around to see Harry smirking at her. Albus was engrossed in the dancing cabbages in the Charm improvement advertisement.
“You mean my entry won?” She asked, her eyes blazing with a hint of mischief.
Harry chuckled at the way she feigned surprise. She was no longer that shy little girl anymore.
“That’s what it says in the Prophet,” he said. “Winning entry.”
James was munching on a spoonful of his cereals and looked between his parents with a confused look.
“I can’t believe it won. It’s not exactly a first-class poem,” Ginny muttered.
“You didn’t tell me you were planning on using that same song you came up with in your first year,” Harry said, unable to contain his grin.
“I had to,” Ginny said, her eyes blazing fiercely. “I overheard Romilda Vane in Diagon Alley the other week going on about how she’s come up with this poem for the Daily Prophet competition that would win your heart. I saw red and was ready to curse her into next week but then Luna told me to write a poem myself.”
“So you decided to tweak the song you sent me on that Valentine’s Day all those years ago,” Harry said, unable to contain his laughter.
“It’s better than hexing Romilda Vane,” Ginny said.
“Only you could turn a singing valentine into a winning poem,” Harry said fondly, leaning across the table.
“Don’t kiss,” James said. “I’m having my breakfast.”
Harry and Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle at James’s grumpy expression. Harry leaned back and Ginny ruffled James’s hair.
“Don’t worry, James,” she said. “Your father is more likely to die of embarrassment at the moment.”
James’s face split into his signature toothy grin as he looked between his parents.
“Well, at least I’m not on the ground trying to push a singing dwarf off me this time,” Harry said nonchalantly.
“And my poem is far better than the slop Romilda Vane would’ve written,” Ginny said.
“That’s true,” Harry laughed. "I can't believe she would still think I have any interest in her. I still remember how she spiked those cauldron cakes with love potion."
Albus was so engrossed with the images of the Irish Quidditch team celebrating their latest win, that Harry thought he could wave a hand in front of his son’s face and Albus wouldn’t notice.
“I know a poem,” James said suddenly and Ginny groaned.
“It’s not the poem about Hags, by any chance?” Harry asked. “You know you’re not allowed to say that one especially if Great Great Auntie Muriel is around. You know she didn’t take too kindly to being compared to a wrinkly old Hag the last time you performed that poem.”
“Even if it is true,” Ginny said darkly.
“No,” James said. “It’s a different one.”
Harry felt a sense of trepidation but forced it down. James's poems weren't exactly poems you could print in the Daily Prophet.
“Well let’s hear it,” Ginny said. “And no comparing Muriel to Hags this time. We don’t need the drama.”
With a loud scrape, James pushed his chair back and stood up on it so that he could see everyone. Lily’s little face lit up and she gave James a little wave. Albus got bored of looking at the pictures of the Irish Quidditch team and looked at James with trepidation. James had a determined look on his face and he took a deep breath:
“There was an old man with a Crup and he turned it very blue, he fed it dead flies, bits of fluff and lots of gooey goo! The Crup was very hungry, it wanted food to eat, so it went to the old man’s cupboard and it snuck a tasty treat. The old man was very angry, he threw the Crup out on the grass, but when the old man’s back was turned, the Crup bit him on the arse!”
Albus burst into giggles and Lily started giggling and clapping. James was soaking up the adulation. Ginny caught Harry’s eye and they both turned away to hide their laughter. James stood on his chair looking very proud of himself and basking in the laughter of his siblings, grinning his signature toothy grin.
“And that’s my poem,” he said finally and Ginny and Lily gave him a round of applause.
It took Harry a while to find his voice and James was still standing on his chair grinning from ear-to-ear whilst Albus and Lily were still laughing.
“That was. That was err-“
Harry didn’t have the words to describe the ensuing chorus of laughter and chaos that would erupt if James recited that poem at the Burrow for Sunday lunch with all the Weasleys present.
“That was very good, James,” Ginny said, and James beamed with pride and performed a little bow.
“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “You’ve definitely inherited your Mum’s artistic side and your Uncle Ron's use of words.”
“I’ve got more poems if you want to hear them,” James said, sitting back down. “One about a dragon and Great great Auntie Muriel.”
“That’s great, love,” Ginny said. “Save it for her funeral. Harry, I could give you a private reading of my winning poem if you want.”
“Private reading, eh?” Harry asked, a smirk playing across his lips as Ginny leaned closer.
“Oh no, they’re going to kiss!” James exclaimed. “I’m out of here!”
With another loud scrape, James got up from the table and ran from the kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him.
“James, your breakfast!” Harry called after him, but he heard the door to James’s room slam shut.
“Works every time,” Ginny chuckled, wiping Lily’s face.
Harry checked his watch.
“I’d better get to work,” he said.
Harry kissed Ginny goodbye, ruffled Albus's hair and gave the Daily Prophet to him. Albus took it as if it were a treasure and hugged Harry. Lily waved at Harry and Harry hugged his daughter goodbye but Lily seemed reluctant to let go.
It took some gentle coaxing from Harry and Ginny for Lily to finally let go of Harry.
When he got to the Ministry of Magic, he heard several conversations discussing Ginny’s Valentine’s poem. Harry thought about the poem all day and it cheered him up and he was in a good mood all day.
‘So much better than chocolates,’ he thought.
Harry imagined that there would be an entire fan club dedicated to that poem. He felt as if his heart could burst with pride.
It was not every day that your wife submitted her old singing valentine to the Daily Prophet.
McGonagall: sighs deeply This is the third time this month you’ve vandalized the Slytherin common room.
Fred: Vandalized is such a strong word.
George: We prefer “redecorated.”
McGonagall: Putting a sign on the door that says “House of Snakes and Bad Haircuts” is not redecorating!
Harry confesses something to the cam set up at Ron and Hermione's wedding, thinking that no one is ever going to watch it. He reveals his feelings for someone and when Ron suggests watching it with that someone in the room, Harry knows he is toast.
She hadn't made a milkshake in years for fear that they would return.. She starts the blender reluctantly.. In the distance, screams.. The boys had returned. They were. coming to her yard.
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