A/N Muggles, Squibs, Wizards and Witches alike, I do apologise. I promised a quick posting for the finale of the My Little Girl series and failed. Miserably. I blame that irritating bugger Real Life, and one of my dear cats jumping on my laptop and breaking it. Make sure you back up your documents!

READ ME: Okay, so this story is rated a serious M. As well as my usual obscene language and sexual encounters, there are scenes of violence, abuse- physical and sexual- and major character death. The more serious scenes of abuse I will be putting warnings up for, but don't go into this expecting no violence or unnerving scenes. If you have an aversion to such scenes; when I post the warnings please, feel free to message me, and I'll give you a quick summary :)

A/N2 First time I've done this, but it's actually really important to me. I've never dedicated a FanFic to anyone, but now I must, to one person and one brilliant character. Firstly; it is no coincidence that this is being posted on Mother's Day. I know everyone seems to say it but... Well, my mum is the best. She's supported my reading and writing since I was five, has read all of my original work and FanFics, and given praise and/or constructive criticism throughout. Not only that, but she's stuck with me through some very tough times (that bastard Real Life again!) and is the strongest person I know, not only in herself, but in the strength she holds for other people. I love my mum more than I can ever say, and more than she will ever know. Until she reads this. And I become embarrassed. Ugh.

The second dedication is to one of the loveliest, moodiest characters ever. Sadly, one of our cats passed away earlier this week (on the 29th Feb, he had to be bloody unique) and we'll always miss him. He was... Well, if you have a pet you love, you know. So, this is for the best mum in the world, and for my dear GOM (Grumpy Old Man = Best Nickname Ever)

I've ranted, but now (finally), and in my mum and cat's name, I present Girl No More.

Chapter 1

1:23pm

'It's ridiculous,' Hermione thought sullenly, 'after all we've been through, for him to go this way.' She was sat at yet another funeral; twenty years after the Final Battle, when she'd dared to believe that they could live in peace, not have to bury another friend. What a way to go, as well; the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, killed by Muggle stupidity. It was her fault, she thought with devastating guilt. She was the one who had told him and his wife to take a night off, told them she would look after their children so that they could celebrate their anniversary together. If only she had known... If she had known that Harry's grateful face in his navy dress robes, and Ginny's excited look in her beautiful turquoise gown would be the last time she saw them... Oh, what she would have done, if only she'd known.

Crookshanks and Tyg, Rose's kneazle gifted to her by her father, had known somehow. They had tried their best to stop the Potter parents from leaving the house, going so far as to sit on their feet resolutely. But Hermione had ignored them, had exclaimed that they were acting strangely but done nothing, hadn't even considered that in their own magical way, they knew the pair would not return to the house. She hadn't heeded their unspoken warning.

Thousands had turned up to the funeral, as was only right, but at the same time she had to wonder how many people knew them as Harry and Ginny, rather than the Chosen One and his wife. She wrapped her arms tighter around her god-daughter and her daughter, pulling Lily Potter and Rose closer to her, letting their tears soak into her black dress. She blinked back the own moisture in her eyes, telling herself to be strong, but it was so hard, so hard. As the stranger from the Ministry droned on and on about their achievements, she thought about the fierce look in Ginny's eyes as she kissed Harry for the first time, the way he had lost himself looking at the Marauders Map for her when they were on the run, the look of absolute relief when they came out of the battle harmed, but alive. Then more memories; their wedding day, the birth of their babies, the proud tears glistening in their eyes when each of their children left for Hogwarts for the first time.

She wanted the man to shut up, to stop talking about the downfall of Voldemort and the battles. She wanted him to talk about the look of nervous joy Harry had when he first rode a broomstick, the bat-bogey hexes Ginny was so famous for, the years of happiness that they shared together. That was what they fought for, after all, that's what so many people died for. She inwardly sighed; Harry Potter would never just be Harry Potter, he never had been and never would be. He would always be the man who beat Voldemort. And Ginny would only ever be remembered as his wife. She hated it; she hated the fact that these people sat here and pretended to know them both, hated the fact that it was some stranger that was giving them their epitaph, hated the fact that she wasn't able to save them. A single tear streaked down her cheek and she let it fall carelessly, before strengthening her resolve and reminding herself that Lily and Rose needed her. I have to be strong.

Her eyes darted over to the family that was hers, sat a few seats away. Ron, her husband, with one arm around his god-son James and the other around their son Hugo. George clinging desperately to Angelina, Mrs Weasley clutching to Mr Weasley and Percy miserably, Fleur grasping Bill's arm whilst his other was wrapped around his son Louis, who in turn was clutching his elder sister Dominique. Her own parents weeping but sending concerned looks in her direction. She turned to her friends, the only other people that really knew the Potters. Neville, holding wife Hannah and god-son Albus tightly, his face scrunched up to prevent tears. Luna, for once without any odd accessories, crying silently on the arm of her husband. Then there was Dean and Seamus, Lavender and Parvati, and quite a few Gryffindor's she recognised from Ginny's year, and from the Quidditch teams over the years. Her throat closed over as she saw Dennis Creevey with his parents, watching his brother's idol being buried close to him.

It had been at Hermione and Ron's demand that the pair be buried in the same cemetery as the other casualties from the war; originally people had wanted a grand monument to be created in the centre of London, with their bones beneath it, but their two best friends had refused, accompanied by quick and fierce approval from the Weasleys. In the end, it had come down to James, Albus and Lily, but as their parents' had always been modest about their achievements, and spoke with great respect, even reverence, about those who had lost their lives, they agreed that there was no place more suitable for them to be than among their comrades. Her eyes drifted to the grave that Harry had insisted be made, for none other than the potions master that had given him grief for most of his life. After some convincing, he had revealed Snape's past to her, even showing her the memory, and holding her as she cried afterwards. She wondered now, if there was a Heaven and Hell, where Severus would be? She hoped he would be in the former. Although there was no doubt he'd done awful things before his reformation, and many more awful things after, she genuinely believed he wasn't an awful person.

She forced her unwilling mind to return to the man's speech. "-such heroes, and will never be forgotten, for they-" She let herself drift again, unable to meet anyone's eyes and instead letting her gaze fall on the seemingly endless sea of graves that surrounded them, absently stroking the children's hair. So many people... So many. They were being buried between Fred and Remus, two heroes that people would never know again. She shook her head slowly; too young, they were all too young. Her eyes met Teddy Lupin's and she saw the deadened look in his dry eyes, even as he rubbed Victoire's back comfortingly – another orphan, another man with no family, another one who had lost not only his father, but the closest thing to as well. Teddy loved Harry, and vice versa, and she knew from the latter's life that he would never truly recover from the loss of his godfather.

"-acts of bravery and strength-" Merlin, wouldn't that man shut up? It was like Dumbledore's funeral all over again, when they hadn't mentioned his bordering-on-unhealthy obsession with sweets, or the mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes, or his complete adoration for Christmas hats. Why was it that they constantly missed out the important things at funerals? It was always the same thing; at Fred's they hadn't even mentioned his love of explosives, at Tonks' they hadn't spoken about the way she would change her nose to amuse people, at Remus's they didn't even acknowledge the fact that he always tried to hold himself up though he was hurting after the full moon. They hadn't even mentioned Colin Creevey's camera. That was the Ministry officials though, only interested in dull, meaningless commendations. Of course, it was all true; they were all heroes, brave and brilliant and so, so loved, but they were more than that too. They had had normal lives, with teenage drama and work problems and stresses about pointless things. "-forever embodied in the legacy they left behind-"

Even as she rolled her eyes and sighed, Lily suddenly darted out from under her arm, and she cried out after her. But the young girl purposefully strode to the podium and gave the speaker a glare that was worthy of her mother until he moved, and she stood facing the crowd, red hair shining brightly in the sunlight. Her brothers jumped up to join her, James murmuring lowly in her ear and receiving only a shake of her head in reply, and Albus nervously looking at the mass of people staring at them. "You're all talking about my mum and dad as if they were just the 'Golden Couple'," Lily began, voice shaking, "but they weren't. They were our mum and dad. And I know that most of you are here because they were famous, but do you know what made them heroes to me? What I'll remember them for? The fact the every Sunday morning, they would make breakfast together, and dad would always try to teach mum how to use Muggle stoves. She managed to set the whole kitchen on fire once; they kept a small part of the scorch mark on the ceiling in memory." The three Potter children chuckled lightly.

"I'll always remember the way mum used to yell at dad when he came home from work with a broken bone or a new injury. He used to joke that he'd rather take on a dozen criminals than face her when she was angry. But then they'd always end up curled on the sofa together, and everything would be okay." James added.

Albus's voice suddenly piped up, his eyes so like Harry's that tears formed in Hermione's anew. "The main memory I'll have of mum and dad is the stories they told us as children, about a stag, doe, dog and wolf. They were so exciting, and then later on we found out that they were true as well." He smiled wistfully, even as he cried. "Dad always said that he felt he'd done his parents, Sirius and Remus proud by having his three children."

Lily stood between her brothers, holding their hands and looking devastated, but stubborn. "That was our mum and dad. Not some random people that won a war, not a couple of famous people, not the 'Golden Couple'. Our parents. And that's what made them heroes to us."

They stepped down and Lily guided them back to where Hermione and Rose sat, and she magically extended the seats to accommodate them all. Rose wandered over to join best friend Albus and they all became a tangle of limbs as they hugged, Hugo quickly joining the group. The Ministry man continued droning on, but it seemed that no-one that mattered was listening, and after a moment Neville stood up on shaky legs and stumbled to the podium. The official gave a small sigh and stepped aside, and Neville visibly paled as he was met with the thousands of faces staring at him. Steeling his nerves, the embodiment of Gryffindor courage, he gave a wry smile. "You know, in our first year Harry got me in so much trouble, I never imagined that... I just wanted to say that Harry was one of my best friends, one of the first people that actually believed in me. And Ginny wasn't afraid to yell at me when I was being too hard on myself. I loved them both, and I'll miss them more than I can ever say." He stepped down, shoulders shaking with repressed tears and joined the group around Hermione, clutching Albus tightly to him and weeping onto Hannah's shoulder when she came over.

Luna now wandered up to the stage, her usually dreamy nature replaced by a grim slouch. "Ginny was always so nice to me, even though people made fun of me. She told them off when they called me Loony. Then Harry started the DA and for the first time, it was like I really had friends. I've lost two best friends now, and I'll never forget them. Not even if the wrackspurts get me." She gave a defiant nod and moved to hug Lily, who was chuckling weakly.

The next person to move forward made the entire company gasp in shock. "We hated each other for seven years, rivals from the moment we first met at Diagon Alley. Hell, I got turned into a ferret because of him." Draco Malfoy scowled slightly, before exhaustion and unexpected grief washed his features clean. "But he and his friends saved my life, twice, and even spoke up for me so I wouldn't be sent to Azkaban after the war ended. He was," He seemed to choke on the words, "a good man. A really good man. And if I can ever be half the man he was, I'll be happy. As for the Weasel gi-" He caught himself and frowned, "Ginny, I didn't really know her, unless you count the many hexes we threw at each other, but she must have been pretty special to have a guy like Harry love her." He didn't walk to their quickly growing group, but strode quickly back to his seat. His eyes were mostly cast down, except for a moment when he met her own, and she nodded slightly. Now was not the time for old grudges, and she appreciated how difficult it must have been for him to stand up and commemorate his old enemy.

He was followed by various classmates and ex-teachers, including a highly tearful McGonagall and a stricken-faced Oliver Wood, before Hagrid stomped up and gave a blubbery mess of a speech that no-one could understand, then returned to Grawp. Mrs Figg came next, moaning that she'd always been horrible to Harry, afterwards the entire Holyhead Harpies team crying bitterly over the loss of Ginny, and then Dean and Seamus, visibly shaking. To everyone's surprise, Petunia Dursley stood up, murmuring that she'd let her sister down before breaking into sudden tears and being helped down by a puce-coloured Vernon. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, spoke in his deep, soothing voice, Mundungus Fletcher shifted awkwardly and muttered about them both, and even Firenze the centaur spoke a few words. But still, none of the Weasleys had taken to the stage, and were instead all huddled around Hermione's mute form.

In a sudden flurry of movement, their group parted to let a red-head through. He stood between the two mounds of earth waiting to be filled, tears pooling in his eyes as he turned to face the crowd. "I'm a coward. I abandoned everyone I loved in a way that Harry never did. I abandoned my own family, I couldn't save my own brother, and now I wasn't able to save my sister." Percy didn't attempt to stop the water pooling down his cheeks. "I didn't deserve to be in Gryffindor, but if there was any two people that did, it was Harry and Ginny. I never told Ginny enough how much I loved her, and how sorry I was, I am, for all my mistakes. Just like I didn't tell Fred enough. I let my family down, and that means Harry too. I didn't believe him, and I turned away from everyone because of it. I should have told him, I should have said how sorry I was, I can't believe I never said..." He bowed his head, overcome with his sobs, and only his wife's reassuring hand on his shoulder gave him the strength to look up again. "I loved them. I loved them both. I'll never stop loving them."

He was followed by a stream of Weasleys, then Teddy, until finally it was only Ron and Hermione that hadn't spoken. Ron raised his head as George stepped down and clapped his shoulder in an overly masculine way, eyes somehow dry. "He was my best friend from the first day we met. She was my little sister." He froze, and suddenly his eyes met the crowd, and she was alarmed to see that they were filled with anger. No, not anger, fury. "This isn't fair!" He yelled. "None of this is fucking fair! After every-fucking-thing, they're killed by a bloody Muggle drunk driver?! He lived! He lived through every fucking curse thrown at him, lived through the bloody Avada Kedavra twice, lived even when he was willing to die! And she always survived, she was my little fucking sister! She faced Voldemort when she was bloody eleven and won! She was so strong, so powerful, so bloody brilliant. And they were fucking killed by a fucking drunk Muggle!" He breathed heavily, before screaming, "SHIT!" The mass of people recoiled in shock, but Hermione rushed forward to fold her husband into a tight embrace. He brushed off her affections though and, staring darkly at the earth behind him, turned on the spot and disapparated.

Hermione froze as people started to whisper in appalled tones, and she was disgusted to see Rita Skeeter's smirk as her quill danced across the parchment in her hands. "Stop it." She said quietly, before suddenly yelling. "Stop it!" As each eye snapped to her she quietened and her breath heaved with emotion. "This is the last thing Harry and Ginny would've wanted, people gossiping! We all have our own memories of them both, and that's what we need to hold on to. Ron was right, this isn't fair, but more than anyone else, they understood that people can live forever in our minds, in our hearts, and in our love." She cringed at the cheesiness of her words, but at Bill and Mrs Weasley's reassuring nods, continued. "They both lived and loved fiercely, facing life head on and never hesitating to abandon everything for their friends, their family, for what was inherently good. Their lives weren't easy for a long time, but the years they spent with their children and the people who loved them, the years of peace, meant everything to them. The best thing we can do to honour them is to enjoy every moment we have with our loved ones, just like they did." She turned to the two intimidating coffins behind her, tears falling freely down her face. "I'm so sorry it had to end this way." She whispered. "I love you both, so much. And thank you, thank you for everything."

Ignoring the Ministry official's scowls, she raised her wand and began to levitate the boxes that would forever hold the bodies of two of her best friends, crying silently. Before she knew it, Lily had grasped her hand and, raising the wand she had purchased only half a year ago, muttered, "Wingardium LeviOsa". The rest of the children joined them, all saying the spell, and then all the adults that loved Harry and Ginny. The coffins seemed to glow under the force of the magic, raising high together before falling slowly into the ground. Everyone was weeping openly, but the scene was as quiet as death, the first sound heard in minutes being the slapping of earth as the graves were covered. She sent them a silent goodbye, before turning to face the other thousands that had attended simply to see the Boy-Who-Lived finally laid to rest, grateful to find that they had remained behind out of respect. The seventy-odd people who had crowded around the mounds of earth that now hid the bodies, the fallen couple's nearest and dearest, began to drift slowly away, heads staring at the ground as if wishing it would swallow them up too. All around she could see people muttering soft words of futile comfort, or hugging their friends and families in attempts of reassurance. She nodded to and embraced various people as she passed, before being engulfed in a red-headed Weasley family hug, Mrs Weasley clutching at her as she sank to her knees and pulling her down too. The elder woman's mouth was open in a silent scream of anguish, though it seemed she had cried herself dry, and for a while they simply held one another, only separating when Rose and Hugo appeared by her side. She leant back and let her children collapse onto her, stroking their hair soothingly and telling herself over and over that she had to be strong. She had to be strong. The Potter children joined in the mass of red bushy hair and as she gazed at their tear-stained faces, she had to screw up her eyes and chant to herself, have to be strong have to be strong have to be strong strong strong.

It felt like she had aged a lifetime before they finally broke apart and, each adult holding a child, began apparating away. "Hermione, dear, we're all going back to the Burrow. It's best for us to be together right now. Are you coming?"

She opened her mouth to accept Mrs Weasley's offer, gazing at Lily's still-broken expression and knowing that she would be needed, but she swallowed her words. "I should really go find Ron." She croaked, her voice hoarse. "Would you mind watching Rose and Hugo for a few minutes while I look?"

Molly gave her a small, sad attempt at a smile. "Of course not, but stop by later. None of us should be alone."

"Be careful 'Mione." Bill spoke softly as he held Rose's hand tightly and stroked her hair.

"Thank you, I will be. I shouldn't be too long." Not trusting herself to hold together if she endured another hug, she lightly kissed her children's foreheads and promised she'd see them soon, before turning on the spot and disappearing.