One shot. Ginny looking back on her life. Prepare to vomit from suckish writing.

Gray roots now dilute the fiery red hair on my head. Wrinkles have settled in. James, Albus, and Lily have grown and left. The house seems empty without them, running and chasing each other, giggling and making a mess of things. Why did I complain about them? I would give anything to have that exciting rush back in my life, of being a mother. I'm left with an empty nest, but I guess two people here is enough now.

"Hey," I feel a hand gently touch mine from behind. I see those warm green eyes from my love. Not once in all these years, has that look changed. I still feel my heart racing whenever I see him. (AN: Is it starting to sound like a sappy Twilight novel? Yeah, I'm going in a different direction now. Don't want sparkly vampires in this story).

"What'cha looking at," Harry peers over my shoulder. He sees the album in my hands, flipped to the beginning of it. Me, with my Quidditch teammates, after narrowly defeating the Tutshill Tornados for the League Championship. Oh, what the bloody hell was I wearing? I flip over to see a photo of our wedding, with a small clipping from the Daily Prophet. Nothing big, but I still grin at the memory of Ron after eating 4 slices of cake and drinking an entire bottle Firewhiskey. The next photo is of James, kicking his tiny feet at the camera the day he was born. I'm in my hospital gown in bed at St. Mungo's. James rests in Harry's arms. A few pages down I see Albus's birth, similar but a tiny head looks curiously at his new brother from the edge of the bed. Then it's Albus walking, teetering and hanging on to things for support. I see myself supporting him, my belly rounded with Lily. Now it's Lily's first picture- I can nearly hear the wail from the camera, and see that James covered his ears already. Lily was a surprise, a good one at that. Harry and I were ecstatic at the thought of a little girl- our little girl running alongside her brothers. Just like I did. Now the photo shows Lily holding onto the tail of James's broom. Harry's chasing after them, holding Al's hand.

As I flip to the next page and find it blank, Harry reaches for something in his pocket an then holds it out. I examine its contents. A pile of photos of my Grandchildren's births and happiness. Jason playing in the snow last Christmas. Charlotte laughing and dancing with her mother. Alana's and Alexander's birth just three months ago. These photos are the timeline of my life, every picture another story I won't forget. It's unforgettable.