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SIYE Time:15:14 on 28th March 2024
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Together
By glasscandlegrenades

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 128
Summary: "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime," Harry Potter tells his friends after the Battle of Hogwarts. Life, however, is not done with Harry. The Wizarding community is left in chaos and it's up to Harry to fix it, and there's the small matter of repairing his relationship with Ginny, strained after months apart. Will Harry ever be able to settle and enjoy a simple life with the ones he loves?
Hitcount: Story Total: 59335; Chapter Total: 2843
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
A/N: good news! The next chapter is already written, so if the direction of this chapter gets good response and i don’t have to edit the subsequent one over-much, there could be another update this weekend!! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Title is after the song “Tender is the Night” by Jackson Browne.




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Harry couldn't find Ginny.

The sun beat down on the back his neck, and he could feel the sweat pooling in the small of his back as panic surged through him.

He'd been searching for ages, knocking on doors, wandering in and out of shops, calling her name. The village was small, and Harry knew he should've found her by now. Ron was standing on the corner next to the post office, smoking a pipe.

"Can you help me look for her?" Harry asked desperately. "Please, Ron?"

"No can do, mate," Ron said with a puff of smoke. "I'm not an Auror anymore, remember?"

"I forgot," Harry said quietly. "Why are you smoking a pipe?"

Ron looked down at the object in question, mere inches from his mouth.

"We all have to die somehow, Harry," he answered, looking back to his friend.

Harry took in the sight of Ron once more before turning and running up the high street.

The sky overhead was a piercing blue, and suddenly Harry found himself standing in the old church yard, facing the barn. He knew he must enter, but he was terrified of what he would find.

"Ginny?" he cried, weaving his way through the headstones towards the barn. "Ginny?"

But there was no answer. Harry began glancing down at each headstone as he passed, realizing that each one had the same epitaph.

Ginevra Molly Weasley

Born, August 11th, 1981

Died, March 24th, 2002


Harry wanted to leave this place. He screamed Ginny's name again. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be dead. Every rational bone in his body started to argue with him. Why would she have so many tombstones? She couldn't be buried fifty times.

He finally reached the barn and found himself immediately in the loft.

There she was, her hair fanned out around her in the pool of blood. Her skin was as white as a sheet of parchment and she didn't move. Harry threw himself down next to her, touching her face again and again, trying to pull back her eyelids, but she still wouldn't move. It was like she was made of marble.

"Ginny, Ginny, please," he mumbled again and again, tears stinging his eyes.

"Harry," an urgent voice called. "Harry!"

And suddenly he was awake. He gazed up at ceiling trying to absorb his surroundings without his glasses, but then Ginny was leaning over him. Harry breathed a massive sigh of relief.

"You were having a nightmare," Ginny said, flopping back down beside him and summing a washcloth from the desk across from the bed. They were in her childhood bedroom, having arrived that evening from the Burrow for Christmas. Ginny murmured "Aguamenti" and a trickle of water from her wand dampened the cloth, which she pressed to Harry's temple.

"Thanks," Harry said, reaching up and stroking her wrist.

"Was it the same one?" Ginny asked. "Me in Barrowden?"

Harry nodded. Ginny set the cloth down on the nightstand and reached an arm across him, propping herself up so she could see into his eyes.

"I'm right here," she said quietly, before kissing him gently on the mouth, the forehead, the tip of his nose, along his chin, down his neck. Harry allowed himself to burrow into her for a moment.

She let out a deep breath and curled into him, her leg draped over his and her head resting under his chin.

"You've been so strong since you found them," she mumbled. "I know how terrible it is having someone in your head like that, and I know you feel fine during the day, but perhaps at night… you could take something so you'd sleep better?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll get through it," he said with a small smile. "Just promise me you're not going anywhere."

He lifted his head awkwardly to press his lips back against hers. She ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. "But, Harry… perhaps we should talk about it. We can work through some of these fears..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, snaking a hand under her t-shirt and up her ribcage, brushing a thumb against her right breast.

Ginny still managed a small smile, despite her concern. She continued running her hand through his messy locks, but her gaze travelled over the edge of her childhood bed to the floor below.

"You've forgotten our company," she said, nudging her head downwards.

Harry groaned, leaning over to check on Teddy Lupin, only the top of his turquoise head visible from the sleeping bag Mr. Weasley had unearthed for him.

"We could be very, very quiet," Harry suggested, raising his eyebrows. Ginny giggled in response before pushing Harry off of her.

The four-year-old had begged his grandmother to spend Christmas with Harry and Ginny, and she had finally relented, deciding to visit an old friend of her late husband's for the holiday. She would be back to collect Teddy after Christmas dinner, and Harry was thrilled to be able to share the Burrow with the boy.

He and Ginny had again gone overboard with the gifts for Teddy, but Harry hardly minded. He and Ginny had stayed up late last night, tucking all the boxes underneath the tree in the sitting room, but Harry had been much more preoccupied with the tiny box he had left hidden inside the pocket of his trousers.

He had bought the engagement ring in August, just after England had lost the semi-final match against Bulgaria in the World Cup. Ginny had played spectacularly, and Harry was sure England would make it to the final, but Krum had caught the Snitch at just the right moment, and Bulgaria had beaten England by a mere ten points. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Ron in such an admittedly justifiable rage, and had watched in embarrassment as a single tear had trickled down his best friend's cheek, hastily wiped away before anyone else could notice.

However, Ron's tears at watching his sister leave the stadium in defeat were happily avenged a week later when Egypt defeated Bulgaria in an equally upsetting defeat.

Harry had watched from the stands as Krum threw his broom into the green earth of the pitch before tearfully proclaiming that he was finished with the sport. Ron had cackled happily the whole time.

The Weasleys had returned to England in mourning for Ginny's lost cup, but Harry was happy to have her home after a long and trying separation during her training. Harry made it to every match England played, but trekking between London and Berlin had made for a long summer. The moment Ginny's bags were unpacked, Harry had ventured out to find a ring, intent upon honoring the agreement that he and Ginny had decided upon the Christmas prior.

It didn't take long for him to hunt down the perfect one, a small opal surrounded by a circlet of diamonds that he had bought off an antique dealer recommended by Hermione's parents. Harry hadn't thought twice about confiding to Hermione his plans to propose, and she hadn't whispered a word to anyone besides her parents, for which Harry was enormously glad, as he was quite chuffed with his choice of ring.

And yet, it was now December, and as Harry kissed Ginny lightly again, he caught sight of said trousers flung lazily along the back of her desk chair, and his heart leapt as he thought of the task that he'd been putting off since August. He was tempted to leap up now and propose to Ginny on the spot, but he wanted the moment to be perfect, a beautiful memory in the sea of struggle that had engulfed them in the last five years.

Harry knew that Ginny wouldn't want something public or over-the-top, but he didn't want to casually pop the question after a particularly good shag, either. He was finally beginning to feel a contented happiness that he was desperate to capture when he asked Ginny to marry him.

Ginny's breathing had evened out, and Harry knew that she had fallen back to sleep. Harry himself was unsure if he'd be able to slip back into unconsciousness after his nightmare and quiet contemplations of the engagement ring. He checked his watch. No one would be up for hours. Harry shifted in the tiny bed and settled for watching the slight rise and fall of the old sleeping bag as Teddy slept peacefully.




What felt like mere seconds later, Harry was jolted awake as a small forced crashed into his midriff.

"It's Christmas!" Teddy cried happily, managing to find space for himself between Harry and Ginny in the already-cramped twin bed.

"It's Christmas," Ginny confirmed, reaching an arm blindly from under the quilt and wrapping it around Teddy while keeping her eyes firmly shut. "Why don't you go down and check if Father Christmas has come, and then come back and tell us what you've seen."

Harry glanced towards Teddy, whose head shot up in excitement. "Really?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Quickly," he said to Teddy, who was already clambering out of bed. "Before Victoire gets there first."

Teddy moved much faster, letting himself down from the bed and rushing from the room.

"You've bought us about thirty seconds," Harry told Ginny, who groaned in reply.

Sure enough, Teddy was back in the bedroom moments later, happily reporting that Father Christmas had indeed paid the house a visit, and that Harry and Ginny were the only ones still in bed, and that if they didn't get up now Victoire would get all of the presents and there would be none left for Teddy.

"That's not exactly how Christmas works, Teddy," Harry said, pulling pyjama pants over his boxers and handing Ginny her dressing gown.

Teddy shrugged and grabbed Harry and Ginny in each hand, pulling them down the flight of stairs and into the sitting room, where most of Ginny's family had already congregated under the tree. Bill and Fleur were sitting on the ground watching Victoire as she toddled happily around the room to the delight of her many aunts and uncles. It was the first Christmas that Victoire was truly aware of, and her doting parents had spoiled her just as much as Harry and Ginny had done Teddy.

George and Angelina were squashed together in an armchair, smiling happily at the sight of Victoire, though George's expression turned quickly to one of terror as Victoire reached out suddenly and grabbed her father's fang-earring, yanking hard and tearing it right from its place.

"She loves to do that," Bill said with a smile, raising his wand to heal the bleeding cut on his earlobe.

George smiled nervously. Harry glanced to Ron and Hermione, sitting together on the sofa next to Mr. Weasley. They were smiling happily as well, though Harry noticed that they weren't touching each other, leaving a few inches of space between them. Hermione's arms were crossed around herself and Ron was resting his chin on his hand.

Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen holding steaming cups of coffee, which Harry and Ginny eagerly accepted, sitting on the carpet. Audrey's sister had just gotten married, so she and Percy were spending the holiday with her parents.

"I know it's early, dears," Mrs. Weasley said happily, settling into her rocking chair. "The holidays are so much nicer though, when you can share them with children."

The children were given permission to begin opening their gifts, and Teddy took on the task of handing out presents to the adults. Harry showed the child which letters on the tags signified which members of the family. The four-year-old did remarkably well for having only just learned his letters, though Ginny did receive several gifts meant for George, and Harry turned a pair of goblin-made earrings over to Hermione shortly after opening them.

The festivities were momentarily interrupted by a whoop from Bill and a groan from Fleur, who had just unwrapped a miniature broomstick left under the tree for Victoire.

"Brilliant, Ginny!" Bill exclaimed, plucking his daughter up and setting her gently on the broom, which hovered about a foot off the ground. Teddy smiled; he had the same one upstairs. The broom took off slowly around the room and Victoire shrieked with laughter as she skirted past her relatives.

Ginny laughed. "I have to make sure I'm still her favorite aunt, especially now that I know Gabrielle's working with unicorns."

Fleur had turned rather pale. "Bill!" she cried as her daughter nearly missed the corner of the coffee table. "Watch her before she hurts herself!"

The family had largely finished unwrapping their gifts, and Harry spoke up.

"Why don't we all go outside and fly around the orchard?" he suggested.

"It's freezing!" Hermione said uneasily.

"You don't have to come," Ron said, standing from the couch and clapping his hands together in excitement. "I'm game!"

Everyone stood, summoning cloaks and wrapping scarves around the little ones. Harry sent Teddy up for his broom, and together the family trudged into the garden, covered in a majestic layer of snow. Harry loved a white Christmas.

The adults stood at the edge of the pasture and played audience to the children, who flew circles around each other a few feet above the ground. Victoire flew quite well, much to the delight of her father and aunt, though after a few laps around the garden she misjudged a turn and went tumbling into a snowbank, reemerging with tears streaming down her rosy cheeks and crying out to her maman, who quickly scooped her up and brought her back into the house. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kindly offered to take Teddy inside for hot chocolate, leaving Bill, George, Angelina, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny in the garden.

"What do you lot say?" Bill asked. "Fancy a quick match?"

"We're odd numbers," Hermione said, looking around.

George glanced nervously at Angelina, who smiled happily.

"I'll referee!" she told the others.

"You're joking!" Ginny said. "I haven't played alongside you in ages!"

"I think the last time I picked up a Quaffle was probably the year I was Captain, and I'm not about to go against a Chaser for England."

Ginny looked momentarily suspicious, but shrugged her shoulders as she and Harry began summoning the old Cleansweeps from the broomshed.

Ginny was easily the best player between the six of them, Bill was out-of-practice, and Hermione was awful, so the three were paired together, while Ron, George, and Harry, who were all fairly talented, made up the other team. Angelina proved a fair referee, and they passed several enjoyable hours in the cold tossing around a Quaffle and attempting to spot the golden Snitch amongst the flurries of snowflakes until the cold became unbearable.

The family moved back inside to the warmth of the sitting room, where they stretched out in front of the fire and admired their new gifts. Hermione had given Ginny a book on the history of Quidditch in England, and Harry had received a new set of omnioculars from Ron.

"So you can actually see Ginny in the next World Cup," he said. Ginny had taken the golden device from him and was admiring the knobs and dials, and Harry had to take a moment to appreciate how beautiful she was, her red hair glowing in the low light cast by the fireplace. It was the perfect moment; surrounded by everyone they loved, everyone happy and laughing. The love in the room felt like a tangible thing, and Harry felt a lump form in his throat as he fumbled again with the box in his pocket.

"Dinner's ready, you lot," Molly called. There was a low mumble of excitement as everyone put their gifts back into bags and boxes and began the exodus towards the kitchen.

Harry plucked Teddy up into the air and sat him in a chair at the end of the table. Ginny slid in beside them, and Mr. Weasley walked in, setting bottles of wine down in the center of the table. Ginny grabbed one and uncorked it with her wand, pouring herself a glass before handing it over to Harry, who filled his own glass quickly as he took note of Mrs. Weasley's Yorkshire pudding near the other end of the table.

Pudding on the brain, Harry leaned forward to Angelina in the seat across from him, holding the bottle of mead over her glass in question.

"Oh, none for me, thanks!" she said breezily, waving her hand.

Harry hesitated, unable to remember the last time he'd known Angelina to turn down a drink. Still, it was hardly his business, and he shrugged before placing the bottle back down on the table in front of him. It seemed something of a non-event, but Harry noticed Ginny's gaze follow down his arm to the bottle of wine and then back to Angelina, before her eyes narrowed again in suspicion.

Angelina saw Ginny's reaction and gave a great laugh.

"Damn it, Ginny," she giggled. "It's too early for anyone to know!"

Ginny's eyebrows rose in delight and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Really?!" she cried.

"Angelina!" George groaned. "We weren't going to tell them for another month!"

Angelina looked ecstatic. "I know, I know, but it's so exciting," she said, forking a load of peas into her mouth.

Mrs. Weasley had caught wind of the conversation happening at the end of the table.

"George," she said sharply. "George, do you mean…?"

George took a deep breath and threw Angelina an exasperated stare.

"Due in the middle of July," he told his mother.

Molly shrieked. By now the rest of the family had harkened on to the announcement. Arthur clapped his hands together jovially.

"Congratulations, George and Angelina!" he said happily. "Fantastic news!"

Everyone raised their glasses in cheer, Ginny practically bouncing at the thought of becoming an aunt again, though Harry saw Hermione's mouth turn into quite a visible pout.

Mrs. Weasley came around to Angelina's chair and insisted on a pressing a hand to her still-taut stomach, making no effort to conceal the bevy of tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Everyone needs to calm down," George said moodily. "It's not like she's gone and cured Dragon Pox. We just forgot the charm!"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley cried, shocked, but Angelina laughed and swatted his arm. Despite the exchange, Harry privately thought George had looked happier than Harry had ever seen him, and certainly since Fred's death.

"What's happening, Harry?" Teddy asked curiously. Harry looked down in surprise, having momentarily forgotten the child's place at the table.

"George and Angelina are going to have a baby," Harry said.

"Another baby?" Teddy asked, glancing towards Victoire and sounding rather put out. Ginny giggled, but Harry put an arm around the child.

"It's just what people do, Ted," he said simply. "In a few months it'll be another friend to play with."

Teddy looked dubious and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I know you love to boss Victoire around," he told his godson conspiratorially.

"I do like when she shares her dragons," Teddy admitted with all the seriousness of a four-year-old.

A great screeching sound suddenly rang across the room as Hermione stood from her chair, looking utterly miserable.

"Excuse me," she said, throwing down her napkin and running for the staircase. Ginny stood quickly.

"I'll see if she's alright," she said with a warning stare to Ron, who looked terribly upset.

"Angelina, dear, have you told your parents yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked, wiping at her eyes with a scrap of lace. Angelina began discussing her parents' reactions to the news as Fleur pressed her for a complete description of the symptoms she was experiencing thus far.

Charlie, clearly quite recovered from the big surprise, nudged Harry and asked if he could show Teddy a few Norwegian Ridgeback scale models he'd been working on. Harry gave his assent, and Teddy toddled happily after his fellow dragon-enthusiast to the sitting room.

George smiled at his wife, clearly enjoying her place as the center of attention in the boisterous Weasley family, before standing and making for the kitchen door. Harry glanced towards Ron, who was staring at the ceiling above him as if hoping he'd be able to hear the conversation between Ginny and Hermione from his seat at the table. Harry took a deep breath and decided to follow George into the garden.

George was nursing a beer in one hand as he gazed out at the snow-covered orchard, the other fist shoved deep in his pocket. Harry cast a silent heating charm around the stoop, and George glanced towards him in greeting.

"Thanks," he said.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

George snorted. "Fucking Ginny," he said. "I was really hoping we'd be able to get through tonight without telling you lot."

"Yeah," Harry said noncommittally, unwilling to throw his girlfriend completely under the bus. "She gets pretty excited about that stuff."

George smiled. "It's not so bad. I was relieved we didn't have to make some big announcement like when we got married. That was brutal."

"I'll bet," Harry said, summoning his own beer, which flew gracefully from the kitchen window to his hand. "But, blimey, George Weasley being someone's dad? I don't think I'll ever wrap my head around it."

George snorted into his beer.

"You and me, both, mate," he said, before glancing back to the house and sighing. "I do just wish Angelina would've waited."

"Why?" Harry asked, trying to humour George's mood.

"Her midwife said not to tell anyone until she was twelve weeks, in case something happened," George said, bringing his bottle again to his lips. "She's only ten now."

"Surely it can't make that much of a difference," Harry murmured.

"Yeah, but why tempt fate?" George asked. He shuddered.

Harry looked over to his friend, paled by more than the cold. "Are you thinking about Fred?" he asked.

"When am I not?" George answered. "But, yeah. Yeah, I suppose I am."

He was quiet for another moment, and Harry didn't say anything. George took a deep breath, turning towards Harry.

"I think… sometimes… the way we all go on Fred… well, it makes it seem like he's not really gone, doesn't it? As if he's on holiday or something, and we're just telling stories to remember him until he gets back."

Harry had noticed this, but assumed that it was something the family had done for the last four years to benefit Mrs. Weasley. He didn't realize George was so in tune to the language surrounding his brother's absence as well.

"But, now there's Victoire, and my… baby. Fuck's sake, I'll never get used to that," George permitted himself a small smile. "And there'll be others, others who have never known him. I'm married to Angelina Johnson and we're going to have a kid in the summer, and Fred will never know that, either," his voice sounded tired. "It makes me miserable."

Harry sighed, and clapped his hand lightly on George's shoulder. He knew he needed to be concise in what he was about to say, but wasn't sure how George would respond. "He does know," Harry answered gruffly.

George looked to him quickly. "Just beyond where we can see, right, mate?" he asked with a smile, clearly remembering Harry's words from Fred's funeral. Harry met his gaze, and George relaxed visibly, nodding.

"Thanks, Harry," he said quietly, draining his beer and turning back to the house.

Harry stared out at the stars for a few moments, forcing himself to acknowledge the thing that George had just said. Fred Weasley was dead. Fred Weasley was never coming back. He'd never speak to Fred Weasley again. The pain of it hit him hard like a knife, and Harry drew in a ragged breath, before composing himself and following George back up the snow-covered path.

He entered the house to find the kitchen empty, and he could see from his position in the doorway that the sitting room was devoid of occupants as well.

Suddenly Mrs. Weasley popped her head down from the landing above.

"Andromeda came to collect Teddy while you were in the garden, dear," she said kindly. "Don't worry, I made sure all of his gifts were packed up!"

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. And thanks for having him this year, I know he was ecstatic."

Mrs. Weasley waved her hand. "Please, Harry, you must call me Molly. You're really a man now. It is lovely to have such a reminder of Remus and Tonks in the house, and what a delight to have the sounds of children playing again. And another grandchild next year. I'm just beside myself with excitement."

Harry smiled at her. "I am too," he admitted. Mrs. Weasley was right… there was something about having the kids around the house that made the holidays naturally more cheerful. Mrs. Weasley gave a little wave and made her way back up the stairs.

Harry watched her retreat and absentmindedly reached his hand into his pocket and fumbled with the ring box yet again, thinking of Ginny alone, upstairs in her bedroom. He climbed the first flight of stairs, but stopped on the landing as he heard raised voices coming from behind Ginny's door.

He could tell that Ginny was arguing with someone by the pitch of her voice, and remembered suddenly that she'd followed Hermione from the kitchen. But why were they having a row in Ginny's room? Against all better judgement, Harry leaned forward so his ear was next to the door.

"... and now George and Angelina," Hermione was saying, sounding close to tears. "He's going to be so upset, and every month he gets his hopes up and every month he gets let down. It's getting to the point where he can't even look at me because all he sees is disappointment."

"That's not true," Ginny said. "He adores you. I think you're reading in too much to what he's saying because he's a prat and doesn't know how to talk to people. Have you tried telling him how anxious you're feeling?"

"No, because I don't want him to think anything's wrong, and I didn't think anything was wrong for the first few months, but it's been two years, Ginny, and I'm starting to worry it's never going to happen for us. Why hasn't anything happened yet?" Hermione's voice raised in desperation as she questioned Ginny. Harry was utterly lost. Was this the the mystery problem that had caused Ron and Hermione to be so upset for so long? The reason why they rowed constantly, the reason why he'd asked her to leave her job?

"Because," Ginny whispered dramatically, before stopping suddenly and taking a deep breath.

"Because," she said, more calmly this time. "I don't think you really want this, Hermione, and I think that your body is picking up on that, and, I don't know - maybe stopping anything from happening. It's okay for you not to be ready-"

"That's ludicrous," Hermione snapped. "I'm twenty-three years old, I'm fit, I'm healthy, I've been having regular sex with my partner for nearly two years-" Harry blanched from his place on the landing "- and nothing. Not a single late period. I'm telling you, there's something wrong with me."

"Fine," Ginny said. "There's something wrong with you. What are you going to do about it? These Muggle things you've been telling me about? The fertility treatments? Seems like a waste of money to me when you don't want to have a baby."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Hermione asked shrilly.

"Because it's true!" Ginny nearly shouted. "Why do you keep going along with all these ridiculous suggestions of Ron's? You told me you didn't feel ready to get married, you're certainly not ready for this. I don't get you, Hermione."

Hermione was silent for a moment, but Harry could hear her breathing heavily, and imagined that she must look quite crazed by this point. The entire conversation was making him deeply uncomfortable, and he sincerely regretted listening at the door of Ginny's room.

He remembered, two years ago, when Ron had decided to leave the Ministry, him telling Harry that his relationship with Hermione was struggling because he was working too much in the Department. It was starting to sound like they were struggling because Ron had been trying to convince Hermione to start a family.

It also seemed that none of this was new information to Ginny. Harry took a moment to feel betrayed that neither Ginny, nor Ron or Hermione had chosen to tell him that the latter pair wanted to have a baby. His best friends becoming parents would be a major change for all of them, and not one that Harry was sure he wanted.

Why hadn't Ron told him about this? Did he fear Harry's reaction, like when he had decided to leave the Auror office?

"You have no idea what it's like to be married, Ginny," Hermione said finally, and Harry heard her voice draw nearer as she moved to the door.

He sprang back, but he was still in motion as Hermione came out onto the landing, her eyes sparkling with tears. She registered no surprise at his presence, only glumly saying, "Happy Christmas, Harry," before walking up towards Ron's old room.

Harry looked past Hermione into the bedroom, where Ginny sat on her bed.

"Hi," she said, looking up to him with a pained expression.

Harry entered and plopped down beside her. She leaned into him, brushing a hand across his thigh and pressing her mouth into his shoulder.

"How much did you hear?" she asked him, her voice muffled.

"Enough," Harry replied. "What the hell, Ginny?"

"I didn't know for sure until tonight," Ginny said defensively, pulling away. "Hermione has been mum on the subject since Ron left the office, but I had my suspicions."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, embarrassed at how the hurt came through so clearly in his voice.

Ginny fell back onto the bed, stringing her fingers through Harry's and tugging gently on his hand. He lay down beside her on the tiny mattress.

"I almost miss the summer after the war," Ginny said, quietly changing the subject. "Isn't that odd? It was so terrible; everyone gone, Mum sleeping all day… but you and I felt so right, spending all those nights in this bed."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Except the bit where we were so beside ourselves with grief that we couldn't communicate worth a damn."

"Yeah," Ginny said quietly. "Except for that bit."

She turned towards him so that her hair tickled his shoulder.

"I think we rushed things… getting back together after Fred's funeral," she said. "I wasn't just learning how to live without Fred, I was learning how to live in an entirely different universe. I had so much work to do on myself before I could ever think about being with anybody else."

"I know," Harry murmured, smiling back down at her. "That year without you was miserable, but I learned a lot about myself. Probably as much as I did when we were hunting the Horcruxes, if I'm being honest."

Ginny was silent. Harry felt more at peace here in bed beside her, but he still had terribly nagging questions. Ginny sighed deeply, almost in anticipation. Harry wondered wildly for a moment if she could read his mind.

"When did they decide?" he asked quietly.

"Ron asked Hermione if she'd want to start trying after Victoire was born," Ginny answered. "Hermione said they actually started around when he left the Ministry, though."

"I feel stupid for not realizing," Harry said. Ginny sighed sadly.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "Like I said, I didn't tell you because I didn't want to speculate, but I did tell Ron if something was bothering him he should talk to you about it."

"Why didn't he?" Harry asked miserably.

"I think… Harry, I think he thought you'd be upset that he was abandoning the mission for something that could be put off," Ginny said. "I know it's hard to see when it's your own life, but you were a bit one-track these last years with Rowle and the Lestranges. You were looking for answers that you'd never find while the rest of us were trying to move on."

"The Lestranges have been in Azkaban for nine months," Harry grumbled. "He could've talked to me about it. It's such a huge thing to do... have a kid. Even George and Angelina... Everything seems like it's happening too fast."

Ginny wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his jawline. Harry thought again about the box in his pocket. He knew he was ready to marry Ginny, but all the change was overwhelming. He had assumed that being married to Ginny wouldn't feel much different than living with her, but now looking at Ron and Hermione, and how much they were struggling, he felt suddenly nervous. He didn't want to put that kind of pressure on Ginny. Things were so perfect right now... did getting married mean they would change?

"Harry," she said emphatically. "This is growing up. Of course things feel like they're happening too fast. This part of our life is meant to be unsettled."

"I don't know if like it," Harry said.

Ginny snorted.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured. "Everything will be alright. I don't think Ron and Hermione are really going to have a baby anytime soon. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

She kissed him again. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," Harry murmured, staring at the ceiling. Ginny yawned.

"Stop dwelling, Harry," she sighed, reaching for her wand and flicking it so the light flew from the lamps. She reached down and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"I've been thinking," she said, kissing his neck again. "That maybe we could be a bit… proactive about these nightmares you've been having."

"Proactive, eh?" Harry asked, his breath hitching in his throat as Ginny switched direction, her hand leaving his chest and making its way towards his waistband.

"It's worth a shot," she said breathily. "Maybe if I show you how… present I can be before bed, you'll stop worrying about me being gone."

Ginny's hand reached its destination and began gently moving up and down. Harry swore quietly.

"It's worth a shot," he repeated before kissing her passionately.
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