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SIYE Time:10:09 on 28th March 2024
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Scars
By NES85

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:None
Genres: Angst, Drama, General, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 32
Summary: A Deathly Hallows "missing last chapter" that takes place before the epilogue. We finally get to see Harry and Ginny come together, but their reunion isn't as easy or as effortless as they would have thought. We also get to say goodbye to those that fell in battle, and we get peeks at other characters like Ron and Hermione.
Hitcount: Story Total: 10145



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
This is my first story; I hope you enjoy it! I'd really appreciate any feedback, positive and negative. Thanks! :)

UPDATE 12/20/12: I've just finished my first original novel, which I plan to self-publish, and I'm looking for beta-readers to give general feedback as I brush it up. It's the first entry in a planned YA adventure series that, while not set in a world like Harry Potter's, should very much appeal to Potter fans. If anyone reading this would consider checking it out, please PM me and I'll give you more info. I'd greatly appreciate it!




ChapterPrinter


***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the headmaster’s office, descended the spiral staircase, and walked back to rejoin everyone in the Great Hall. When they reached the steps leading up to the hall, however, they were met with a sight that caused Harry to stop dead in his tracks:

Ginny.

Wordlessly, Hermione exchanged looks with Ron, then led him by the hand up past Ginny, whose eyes stayed fixed on the emerald green pair that stared back into them. Still not breaking his gaze, Harry took the first few steps up and then Ginny began walking down, both picking up the pace until they met and embraced, holding each other as tightly as possible.

It was the first time that they had been alone since she gave Harry that amazing kiss – his birthday present – months and months ago.

Ginny, her head over Harry’s shoulder, squeezed her eyes shut tight and sniffled. In a small voice she said, “Can you just… not wander off any more? Can you just stay next to me for awhile?”

Harry sniffled in response and buried his face deep into Ginny’s shoulder, running his fingers up into her hair and pressing her even closer.

Suddenly, Harry was sobbing, his body shaking as raw, unfiltered emotion was at long last uncorked. Relief, pain, joy, and grief all shook through him. He had struggled to manage his feelings as best he could for so many months – for years, really – to soldier on, stay strong, and do what had to be done.

But the sight of Ginny – of holding her at long last – made the end of his long journey real to him in a way that nothing else could. During his long, hard quest to find the Horcruxes, when he had dared to imagine a life beyond Voldemort, it was Ginny he had pictured. To hold her now meant that his torment was truly over. He had no words, no coherent thoughts. All he could do was to hold onto her and not let go.

Tears of her own streaked down Ginny’s face as she felt wave after wave of his suffering pour out over her, pain that she had been powerless to help him with before. To see this side of Harry, who had always been so strong, carrying them all on his shoulders, touched her and crushed her. Somewhere she knew that he would have only allowed her to see him like this, to see past his usual defenses, to be this intimate. All she could do was be there for him, for as long as it would take for him to heal.

Mrs. Weasley, realizing that Ginny had left her sight, stepped out of the Great Hall and froze to take in the scene before her. There was her daughter with the boy who was as good as a son to her. Moved by Harry’s suffering and surprised to see them embracing so lovingly, she let a few moments stretch by as she debated what to do.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley descended the stairs and gently placed her arms around them both. When she spoke, it was in a soft, nurturing voice. “It’s time to go. Ron and Hermione will Apparate with us back home while Arthur and the others stay to help sort things out. To help with the wounded and tend to those that didn’t m-make it…” She closed her eyes to steady herself.

“Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry, pulling himself together. “I want to help. I want to help with Fr–”

“There’s no need, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, cutting Harry off before he could speak the name. “It's w-well in hand. You two, Ron, and Hermione need rest, food, and looking after.”

Harry started to speak again, but Mrs. Weasley added, “Please… Harry.” Her eyes implored him. “Please, just come with me.”

Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley, too, had been pushed too far beyond her limits, and was doing all that she could to hold herself together, to even continue standing.

“Yeah… okay. Let’s just get Ron and Hermione, then,” he said. Ginny, still holding Harry with one arm, put her other around her mother and hugged her.

***

Harry barely registered the setting sun through the window as he lay on Ron’s bed, staring at the ceiling, numb, detached. It had been as if he had watched himself from outside his body as he forced down some soup, washed up, and put on his pajamas.

It was strange for the Burrow to be this quiet. He could faintly hear Mrs. Weasley busying herself in the kitchen downstairs, and the water running as Ron washed up in the bathroom. Ginny and Hermione were downstairs, somewhere. He thought of going to find them but lingered in the eerie calmness that floated thickly in the air.

“Mum… there’s something you need to know about Harry and I.”

Mrs. Weasley was putting away dishes, her movements slow, her mind elsewhere. It took a moment for her daughter’s words to reach her.

“Hm? Yes, dear?”

Ginny, now wearing a white nightgown, continued to speak from her seat at the dinner table, a half-eaten bowl of soup pushed to the side in front of her.

“We started going out last year, at Hogwarts. Over the last few weeks of term. We dated.”

“Oh,” replied her mother.

“We became… close. Well, really close, actually.”

Mrs. Weasley stowed a bowl away in the cupboard and sat down across from Ginny at the table. Her expression became kind, and understanding.

“You know… I think I may have known about you two. You’ve been so sad all year… well, everyone has been. There’s been precious little good news for a long time. But even so, I sometimes got the feeling that there was something especially dark hanging over you two… something that I’m only just now starting to realize. You… really missed Harry, didn’t you?”

Ginny lowered her eyes to the table and nodded, her hands folded in her lap. “I was so worried. Worried sick. I couldn’t really eat, or sleep. He was somewhere out there, risking his life, in constant danger. I knew he was going after Voldemort. I just knew it. And… and I couldn’t allow myself to really think it, but I… I didn’t think he’d be coming back.”

Mrs. Weasley reached across the table and clutched her daughter’s hand, her face warm and comforting.

Ginny looked up, tears streaming from her dark brown eyes and down her freckled cheeks. Eyes wide, looking into her mother’s face, she whispered, “I thought he died today.

There was real terror in her gaze, and Mrs. Weasley inched closer to hold both of Ginny’s hands.

“We… we all did, dear. Voldemort tricked us.”

Ginny raised her arm and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave Harry alone tonight. He needs me right now… well, you saw, at Hogwarts. He’s been through a lot. He shouldn’t be alone.”

“He’s got Ron, dear…” Mrs. Weasley said. “He’ll be in Ron’s room. He won’t be alone, and I’m sure that Ron needs the company, too.”

“Ron needs Hermione,” Ginny replied. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see that one coming.”

“Well… yes, I suppose I did. But, Ginny…”

“Listen, Mum.” Ginny stared intently at her mother and spoke with a determination that Mrs. Weasley recognized as her own “laying-down-the-law” tone. “All this time I’ve been forced away from Harry… ripped from him… supposedly for my own good while he went out and risked his life. You don’t… you can’t know how that felt. I need him right now, too. Now that Voldemort’s finally gone, nothing’s going to keep me from him. Nothing.”

Ginny’s expression softened slightly. “Please, Mum… can’t you understand?”

Mrs. Weasley stared at her daughter blankly for a moment, then blinked and said, “I… well... okay, Ginny. I understand. I do.”

She then stood up and walked around the table to hug Ginny, who hugged her back. “I’ll just get some sheets to make Harry a place on the floor–”

“I’ll do it, thanks,” interrupted Ginny, and she walked out of the kitchen, briefly hugging her mother before leaving.

***

“Hermione? Hermione, are you in there? Are you changing?”

“No,” the voice from behind the door replied. “Come in, Ginny.”

Hermione, now in her nightgown, was stowing her clothes in a bag in the corner of Ginny’s room. She looked up at Ginny and asked, “Did you see Ron out there?”

“I think he’s still washing up,” Ginny answered. After pausing for a moment, she continued, “Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but you can’t stay in here tonight. Um… Harry is. Staying in here, I mean.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “And… your mother…?”

“Oh, she’s fine with it. Well, she’s not stopping it, at least.”

“Oh,” said Hermione, and as her eyes looked distractedly sideways, Ginny could tell what she was thinking.

“I don’t think she’ll bother you either, if you want to stay with Ron. I mean, considering what we’ve all been through today, I think she’s willing to turn a blind eye just this once.”

“Oh,” Hermione repeated, her face now turning pink. “Well, yes, I’d like that… just to, you know, have him near me. Maybe it will help me get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said, smiling sadly. “I’m kind of afraid of what I might see when I close my eyes tonight.”

Hermione nodded, and after a few moments of silence, she finished packing her bag and walked across the room to the door. With one hand on the doorknob, she paused, then turned back to Ginny and spoke.

“It… it was really hard on him, being away from you.”

Ginny looked at Hermione apprehensively. She didn’t really want to have this kind of conversation with her just now; she was becoming increasingly desperate to be with Harry again; an hour apart was too long. But then, the words weren’t altogether unwanted. She needed to believe that Harry had missed her. Really missed her. That he cared enough for it to hurt, as she had hurt.

“Ginny, I know that you must have been frustrated, being left… well, left behind.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed.

“And you know Harry. He put up a brave front, but night after night, I could just tell. He was missing you so badly. I just wanted you to… well, I just hope that you can forgive Harry for pushing you away. I know that it’s the very last thing he wanted to do.”

Ginny’s face softened. “I know that, Hermione… really, I do. And thanks for helping him and looking after him – and my brother, too. You three really did it; you saved us all.”

Hermione put a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. “Well, we’re finally past all of that, now. And we owe it to ourselves, and to… to those who couldn’t be here… to try our best to find happiness.”

Ginny smiled, and sniffled. “I lo… like him so much, Hermione.”

Hermione grinned at her. “You love Harry, don’t you?”

Ginny said nothing, but smiled back as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Goodnight, Hermione,” she said, giving her a hug. “You’re going to make a great sister-in-law… well, if my daft brother doesn’t screw things up.”

Hermione blushed again and smiled as she hugged Ginny back, then walked through the door. “I’ll send Harry to you,” she said, and made her way toward Ron's room.

Ginny sat on the bed and waited. Noticing her reflection in the desk mirror across the room, she pushed her long, red hair back behind her ear. As moments passed, she became increasingly aware that she was waiting for Harry in her room, in her nightgown, on her bed. Her cheeks felt a bit warm as she remembered telling her mother that she’d fetch the spare sheets – she’d never intended for Harry to sleep on the floor.

“Ginny?” Harry peeked through the open doorway, unsure if it was safe for him to enter.

“Harry, come in!” Ginny surprised herself with her loud and abrupt reaction, springing off the bed to stand awkwardly.

There he was, walking into the room where she’d spent her nights over Christmas holiday thinking and dreaming of him, anguishing over him, crying herself to restless sleep. The room where they had last been alone together, when she’d given him that kiss for his birthday, a moment that she’d carried with her and clung to ever since he had left.

Harry stepped into the room and stopped, his eyes relishing the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

There was Ginny with her deep, brown eyes, her long, blazing hair, and soft, freckled cheeks… the figure under her gown silhouetted against the last remains of twilight beyond the window.

It was everything he had longed for, had hoped for, had dreamed of. His heart leapt, but it was still anchored by the tragedies that weighed on him; the day’s immeasurable loss continued to cut slowly through him like a dull knife. This couldn’t be the scene that he had so often fantasized, rushing to Ginny and holding her, carefree, all worries forgotten.

But Harry suddenly felt – believed – that they would get to that place. Ginny was hope, and home.

Why, then, did their reuniting feel so awkward? Harry knew that Ginny had hated being pushed away, that asking her to stay away had taken a huge toll on her. Was it his guilt that hung over them? Or was it simply fear, fear that Ginny didn’t feel the same way towards him as she had when they were together the year before?

So much time had passed, and there had been so much pain… and Harry wanted her, needed her, now more than ever. He braced himself for any negative sign from Ginny, any look or word that could bring about his downfall.

“Hermione said that you, ah… wanted to see me?”

Ginny said nothing, but screwed up her face and held out her arms. Harry stepped forward and embraced her. They held each other in silence for several long moments… minutes… before Harry spoke again.

“Listen, I wanted to say that I’m sorry about… well, about before, when I kind of lost it. I just kind of, well…”

“Don’t,” said Ginny into Harry’s ear, squeezing him tighter. “Please… don’t. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Harry fell silent and they continued to hold each other for several more long, wonderful moments. Harry closed his eyes and, unlike before, was able to fully appreciate being against her… running his fingers through her hair… feeling her cheek against his neck… feeling her body in his arms… smelling her flowery scent.

Ginny finally straightened up and took a small step back, leaving her hands behind Harry’s neck, her arms falling down his chest. When she spoke, her voice was soft as she looked down at Harry’s feet.

“You can… ah… stay in here, tonight. It’s okay. Mum won’t mind.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stammered as he spoke. “Are you… well, that’s… that’s great, Gin. I mean, that’s good. Yeah, I’m… fine with it. Are you fine with it?”

Ginny grinned, still looking down. “Well, yeah Harry, I’m fine with it. It was my idea.” She looked up at him, directly into those beautiful green eyes, and her grin faded.

“Harry, I… just really need to be with you right now. I need to be close to you. You’ve been away for so long, and then you… when it looked like you were…”

Ginny bit her lip and blinked several times before managing to continue. “We’re both exhausted, and beaten up, and… let’s not talk, let’s just… hold each other, okay?”

Harry smiled warmly, and nodded.

Harry watched as Ginny pulled down the bed sheets and climbed in, moving over to leave a spot for him. Harry followed her under the covers, blew out the candles on the table next to the bed, and laid his glasses there.

He rolled over to face Ginny, and stared into her gorgeous brown eyes for several long seconds before inching closer and taking her into his arms. Ginny nudged her head into Harry’s chest, then looked up and kissed him. Harry could feel a warmth spreading in his chest.

“Welcome home, Harry,” she said, gently pulling her lips away from his.

“This is the only place I want to be,” Harry replied.

They felt their bodies, their warmth, against each other as they drifted away to sleep.

***

The next morning, Harry awoke from the most blissful night’s rest he’d ever had. He felt Ginny against him and took in her sweet smell before opening his eyes to see her, still fast asleep.

They lay on their sides, Ginny facing away from Harry with his body pressed against the back of hers. His arms were wrapped around her and she was holding them close to her. It was still early; the faintest hint of sunlight peeked through the window.

There had been no nightmares; Ginny had kept them at bay. Harry felt refreshed, cleansed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. It was a new day, his first with no more Voldemort, or Death Eaters, or Horcruxes. No more fear and struggle. Ginny was in his arms.

The feeling of loss was still there… the grief… but for the first time, hope, and belonging. He lied there, watching her sleep. She was so peaceful and beautiful, her hair spread out over her pillow, brushing against his cheek.

Harry watched her, knowing nothing but contentment and peace, until he realized with a pain that his appetite had returned, and that he was starving. He tore himself away from Ginny, taking care not to wake her, and tucked the covers back around her. Perhaps, if he could manage it, he’d surprise Ginny with breakfast in bed.

He found his glasses and quietly moved to the door, taking care to slip out without making a noise. He walked toward the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes, a wide grin on his face. Then, Harry noticed a small movement across the room.

Mr. Weasley was sitting at the end of the sofa, his wife stretched out beside him, sleeping, her head resting on a pillow in his lap. He stared at Harry for a moment before raising a finger to his mouth in a silent “shushing” sign, then slowly removed himself from underneath his wife, carefully resting her pillow on the sofa. He motioned for Harry to follow him, and they walked to the kitchen.

“Hungry, Harry?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Mr. Weasley started to work on some toast and motioned towards a chair at the dinner table. Harry sat.

“I’m afraid that I’m a poor substitute for Molly in the kitchen. We’ll have a proper breakfast once everyone’s awake.”

Mr. Weasely smiled politely, but looked very tired. He clearly hadn’t slept at all, and still wore the same clothes from the day before.

“When did you get back?” Harry asked.

“Oh, around midnight, I think. George, Bill, and Charlie went straight to sleep, in George and Fr– well, in George’s room.”

Harry saw his smile straighten out.

“There will be a service this afternoon,” Mr. Weasely continued, “to honor those who gave their lives to stop him.”

Harry couldn’t think of what to say.

Mr. Weasley sat across from Harry at the table, his back to the kitchen doorway, and placed a plate of toast in front of each of them. He looked at Harry and seemed to really take him in. He smiled kindly and placed a hand on Harry’s arm.

“Thank you, Harry. I don’t really know how you did it, but you saved us all. I won’t press you for the details just now, but know that I – and everyone else – owe you a debt that we can never repay. And, I hope you don’t mind me saying it, but I’m proud of you, proud of you as if you were my son.”

Harry smiled and looked down at the table. He felt awkward at such praise. Hadn’t others sacrificed as much as him, or more? Fred, Lupin, and Tonks… they were the real heroes. But despite this small pang of guilt, Harry basked in the kind words, as if he were being praised by his own father.

Mr. Weasley took a bite of toast and said, “Go on then, Harry. You’ll want it while it’s warm.”

They ate together in silence for several minutes. At one point, Ron and Hermione walked into the kitchen together, grinning and holding hands, before they spotted the back of Mr. Weasley’s head and abruptly spun around and left.

A few more minutes passed; Mr. Weasley had finished his toast first.

“So, Harry, I hear from Molly that you’ve been seeing Ginny.”

Harry nearly choked on his bite of toast, causing Mr. Weasley to summon a glass of water with his wand.

“Thanks,” said Harry, gulping it down. “Um, yeah, we kind of started going out around the end of last year, at Hogwarts.”

“Well, that’s terrific news, Harry. I can’t pretend that it isn’t a little bit of a shock that my little girl is suddenly old enough to be dating, but Molly and I approve of you, obviously.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning. “That, uh, means a lot.”

Harry looked back at his toast, not realizing that his smile was fading.

“What is it, Harry?”

Harry was becoming very comfortable talking to Mr. Weasley, appreciating his support, and he suddenly felt the need to confide in someone, to try to untangle the feelings that were stuck in his chest.

“Well… it’s just that I know that I really hurt Ginny when I left to go on… on my mission. I broke things off with her, right after Dumbledore’s funeral. I didn’t want to, but I just couldn’t risk putting her in danger. If Voldemort had found out what she meant to me… well, he’d already tried to get to me through her once, hadn’t he?”

Harry was looking directly at Mr. Weasley now, crinkles forming between his eyebrows.

“And I hated it. I hated it. It was so hard to keep her away and then, that night when she kissed me in her room–”

Harry realized his slip up when Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows.

“Well, it… it just made things even harder,” he finished, sheepishly. Harry waited for Mr. Weasley to speak, but when he didn’t, he continued.

“And now… now everything is finally over and I can be with her again, and – well, it’s wonderful, but there’s… I mean, it’s not as simple as that. I can tell that she’s really suffered and, well… it’s not like either of us feel like celebrating, you know?”

Harry sighed and ran his hands over his face, pushing back his hair.

“Oh, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Mr. Weasley grinned warmly.

“Harry… listen. We’ve all been through a lot… we’ve all suffered. You, especially. And Ginny… I know things have been rough for her. I’ve seen how she’s been. What we’ve gone through… it’s going to leave scars. There’s no helping it. But, Harry, those scars will heal. They’ll heal because we have each other, as a family. And you and Ginny have each other, again. That’s what matters. Everything else… will pass.”

Fred’s death hung over every word, and Harry felt increasingly guilty at succumbing to his own petty worries.

“We will grieve, but then we must move on. That’s what all of the fighting, all of the sacrifice, was about, wasn’t it? To create a world where we could be happy. The greatest honor we can pay to those that gave their lives is to make the most of this wonderful gift they’ve given us. Your feelings for Ginny haven’t changed, I take it?”

“I think… I love her, Mr. Weasley,” Harry replied, smiling as he admitted this for the first time, even to himself.

Mr. Weasley beamed at him.

“Then, Harry, all will be well.”

“Um, Dad, can I speak to Harry?”

Harry looked up and realized with a jolt that Ginny was standing in the doorway. How long she had been there, he did not know; he had been looking away, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Weasley.

“Oh, well, of course…” Mr. Weasley sputtered, startled. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

He moved past Ginny, patting her on the shoulder, and went back to rejoin his wife.

“Back to my room?” Ginny said to Harry, and he left the kitchen with her.

***

Once the door was closed behind them, Harry spoke, somewhat apologetically.

“Sorry, Ginny, I didn’t mean to cut out on you. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed, and then I ran into your dad.”

Ginny smiled, squinting her eyes as she replied, “Well, I suppose you’re off the hook, then.”

Harry smiled back and they sat beside each other at the end of Ginny’s bed. They looked away from each other, letting a few moments pass, before they both spoke simultaneously.

“Did you sleep oka–”

“Harry, I need to ask–”

They stopped and smiled.

“You first, Harry.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Great,” Ginny answered, her face warming as a grin stretched wide.

“Really, really great. No bad dreams, or anything. Well, there was one dream, actually…” and she looked down, her freckled cheeks turning pink, “…but it certainly wasn’t a bad one.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Harry said. “I slept well, too. Best sleep I’ve had in ages, really. I don’t fancy going back to Ron’s floor, after that.”

Ginny giggled, then fixated on her feet as she kicked them back and forth, distractedly.

“What were you going to say, Ginny?”

“Harry…” she wasn’t grinning any more, and Harry could tell that she was measuring her tone carefully.

“The last thing I want to do is to bother you with questions right now… I know that you’ll give me the full story later, when you’re ready. But…” Ginny paused and took in a deep breath, still watching her feet.

“…I need to know what happened… when everyone thought that you had… died.”

Another silent moment passed before Harry simply said, “Oh.”

“Well… it would take a while to explain fully, I suppose, but basically… Well, Dumbledore had told me, last year – remember those private lessons I had with him? He was telling me about Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”

Ginny looked up, her eyebrows wrinkled up curiously. Before she could ask, Harry answered.

“Voldemort had split his soul into seven pieces, into seven Horcruxes. And until all of those pieces were destroyed, Voldemort couldn’t be killed. That’s the mission that Dumbledore left me; that’s what I had been doing with Ron and Hermione. We were hunting down the Horcruxes.”

Ginny was captivated. It was distracting for Harry to go on, with her blazing brown stare fixed on him so intently.

“And then… well, I found out that the last Horcrux – the last bit of his soul – was in me. He’d put it there when he tried to kill me, as a baby, without realizing it.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. When Harry spoke again, his tone changed, echoing the weight and dread he had felt upon learning the information himself.

“So… in order to kill Voldemort – truly end him, once and for all – I had to… die.”

Harry stopped; Ginny’s face was pale.

“Listen, you… you don’t want to hear this now – it’s not important. I mean, I’m okay, obviously. I’m alive; we won.”

“Tell me what happened next,” Ginny whispered, her eyes still wide, locked onto his.

Harry rubbed a hand across his face and took a breath. He looked around uncomfortably as he spoke again.

“Well… Voldemort had given us that deadline. He was going to storm the castle and kill everyone if I didn’t go out to meet him. And I knew that – well, at the time, I believed that – he’d have to kill me in the end, anyway – kill that bit of his own soul – if we were going to be able to finish him. So… I put on the invisibility cloak and left the castle."

Harry's eyes lost focus and his words slowed as he forced himself to recall the horrible memory.

I saw… you… and Ron, and Hermione, with everyone. I told Nevile about Voldemort’s snake, and how it was a Horcrux, too. And then, well… I went into the forest and found him. He meant to kill me… and I let him."

Ginny remained frozen, unreadable. Harry blinked and his voice regained warmth.

"But I didn’t die, because he had used my blood to help him come back, three years ago. The charm that my mother had placed on me when she died… it carried over to him, too. It… bonded us, in a way. I couldn’t die while he was alive.”

Ginny’s eyes were full of tears now, threatening to spill over. She hadn’t broken her gaze, hadn't blinked, as Harry spoke. Realizing what this was doing to her, Harry struggled with whether or not he should go on, but decided that he should finish this last bit of the story while he still could.

“So I came back, but I had to pretend to be dead – I was still surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Hagrid carried me out, and… and I heard you scream…”

And now Ginny was sobbing, hunched over, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh Ginny, I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…” Harry wrapped his arms around her, but she tightened in on herself, hunching over more. Harry moved down to the floor, on his knees, in front of her, and reached for her.

“No!” Ginny shouted, muffled by her hands, gurgling through tears. She jerked away and turned from him, sobbing even harder.

Harry didn’t know what to do; something was clenched around his heart, something was stuck in his throat.

“Ginny… I…”

But Harry could think of nothing to say, nothing that might help. He was afraid to say any more, afraid that he would somehow make things worse. He sat there, frozen, for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for some sign from Ginny, who was still hidden from him, wailing.

Without a thought as to where he might go, Harry moved to stand up. Without turning toward him, Ginny blindly reached a hand out and grabbed him, clenching his shirt in her fist. She kept him at arm’s length as she sobbed, and wouldn’t allow him to go anywhere.

Eventually, Ginny managed to regain enough control to speak, her voice shaky, uneven. Still, she did not turn to look at him.

“When… I saw you, there… d-dead…” she sputtered, before needing to compose herself again.

“…it was what I had been dreading all y-year… what I had s-seen every time I closed my eyes, every n-night…”

Harry tentatively reached to put a hand on her knee, and she let him.

“…and even though you’re h-here, and you’re o-okay… I can’t get that image out of my m-mind.”

Harry moved closer, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Harry… give me a m-minute, okay?”

“Sure, Ginny, sure.. whatever you nee–”

“Please leave,” Ginny interrupted, still not showing her face.

Harry blinked. “Um… you want…”

“LEAVE!” she shouted, her voice wrecked with pain.

Harry pulled her to him tightly, wrapping his arms around her from behind, but Ginny violently pushed him off of her, and spun around to face him, her face glazed with tears, her features twisted with anguish.

She screamed, “YOU DIDN’T EVEN SAY GOODBYE! YOU WENT OFF TO DIE ALONE, AND I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW!”

Caught off guard, Harry weakly started, “I… I couldn’t, Gin–”

“BUT YOU COULD SPEAK TO NEVILLE, COULDN’T YOU?!”

She was standing up, pushing him to the door now.

“GO! LEAVE! GET OUT!!

She slammed the door behind him, and he could hear her, crying as if he had died, falling to her bed and sobbing into her pillow. It was a horrible sound. Every sob stabbed into Harry. He loved her, and she was in terrible pain… and he could not help. He had caused her this pain. He vaguely realized the terrible power of love.

Harry looked away from the door and saw that Ron and Hermione were staring at him from up the stairs, startled looks on their faces. In the other direction, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also watching. Not knowing what to do or where to go, Harry realized that he couldn’t stay there and slowly began to climb the stairs.

Hermione passed him and knocked at Ginny’s door. “Ginny? Ginny, it’s Hermione…?” Ginny didn’t answer. Harry trudged into Ron’s room. Ron watched Hermione’s continued attempts to reach Ginny for a few seconds more, then followed Harry.

***

Harry had woken up to a new world, one in which hope and happiness weren’t foolish dreams... but now he was lost.

He hadn’t joined the others for breakfast; he couldn’t face them. He felt the need to suffer as Ginny was suffering. They both stayed hidden away, missing lunch as well. It wasn’t until Mrs. Weasely knocked at their doors, gently telling them that it was nearing time to leave for the service, that they prepared themselves and joined everyone.

Harry and Ginny didn’t speak or even really look at each other. They were emotionless, deadened. They were determined not to distract from, or dishonor, the memories of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and the others. In return, the rest of the Weasley family embraced them and respected their privacy. Hermione stuck close by Ginny, but nobody asked any questions about what had happened.

The service was horribly beautiful. It was raining slightly, but sunlight still shone through the clouds.

There was an overwhelming sense of loss and grief, but also an outpouring of support and love from the hundreds – the thousands – of witches and wizards that had come to honor the fallen heroes of the battle of Hogwarts.

Many people spoke, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, now the acting Minister of Magic. Harry’s heart broke when Mr. Weasely stood to speak, but for several anguished minutes, could not muster one word. George took his place and recounted a few of the legendary adventures that he had embarked upon with his brother, which drew both laughter and tears from the crowd. Mrs. Weasely was supported by her children and never once stopped crying.

Eventually, Harry took a turn to speak. Thousands of eyes stared transfixed at the boy who had saved them all.

“Remus Lupin was one of my dad’s closest friends, the best teacher I ever had, and a close friend to me.”

Harry hadn’t thought of what to say beforehand; he just knew that, for himself and for his parents, he wanted to pay his respects.

“He had a very hard time, growing up. Life was never fair for him. Nobody could have blamed him if he had given in to his… his problems. Given into despair. But he rose above it. With courage, and with the love of those close to him, he showed us the very best of humanity. I hope that, someday, I might be half the man that Remus Lupin was.”

There was a murmur of agreement, and sniffles.

“I know that Tonks made him as happy as he’s ever been. She loved him completely, and she wouldn’t be scared away. They were cheated… they should have had a long and full life together. And we were cheated, because we should have had a long life with them. But they knew love. And they died protecting and cherishing that love. We should all be so lucky.”

Harry couldn’t help glancing at Ginny, who was holding her mother’s arm, staring at him, tears streaking down her face.

“They died trying to create a better world for their son… and they succeeded.”

Harry found Tonks' mother in the crowd, her face screwed up, holding little Teddy Lupin tightly to her.

“I am as proud to be a godfather to their son as I am of anything I’ve ever done in my life.”

Harry thought of Sirius, and had to blink repeatedly to hold back the wave of emotion that rose inside him. He heard Hermione sob, and saw her burying her face into Ron’s shoulder.

Knowing that few would understand what his next words would mean, but feeling that saying them might help lighten the lump in his throat, Harry spoke just once more.

“Somewhere the Marauders are on the prowl once again, embarking on a new adventure together.”

Harry could only manage his emotions for a few seconds more, so he quickly rejoined the crowd next to Ron and Hermione, staring at the ground to avoid everyone’s gaze.

He felt Ginny press into his side and stretch her arms around him. He coughed a single sob and put his hands over hers.

***

Back at the Burrow, the mood lightened considerably. There was still grief, and tears, and the loss would be with them always, but they had turned a corner and now, slowly but for certain, healing would come.

Many people – mainly members of the Order – had returned with them. Mrs. Weasley threw herself into making sure that everyone was well supplied with food and drink, and as the night drew on, there were more smiles than tears as people traded stories of the ones they’d lost.

Occasionally, laughter would echo throughout the house, warming everyone’s spirits. Ron gave an animated retelling of Fred and George’s glorious departure from Hogwarts, during which George added a hilarious impersonation of Dolores Umbridge scrambling to contain the chaos that the twins had set off.

Hermione smiled and laughed, pausing sometimes to wipe away tears, as she held and hugged into Ron without any care that people were watching them.

Ginny, who had said very little but stayed by Harry’s side, holding his hand, watched Hermione before turning to Harry to whisper, “Want to go for a walk?”

Harry nodded and slipped through the crowd, leading Ginny by the hand, until they were outside, crossing the patch where they had played two-a-side Quidditch with Ron and Hermione during a stretch of beautiful days before his sixth year.

Those were the days, he realized, when he began to fall in love with her.

The sun had set, and the dark purple sky was filled with a sea of brightly twinkling stars. The soft, yellow light from inside the house spilled through the windows and onto the grass. All was quiet, save for the distant and muffled commotion coming from inside the burrow.

Harry and Ginny strolled slowly, side-by-side, looking down and holding hands. When Ginny spoke, her voice was strong, but soft.

“I want to say something, Harry… and I’d like it if you could let me finish before you speak.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, squeezing her hand.

“I resented you, Harry. Even hated you, sometimes, for pushing me away. For leaving me behind. I knew why you were doing it, and I respected you for it… you’re so noble, and so brave, and that’s one of the things that I like about you so much… but I just couldn’t bear it.”

Ginny sighed.

“I guess I was just being an immature little girl, but I couldn’t help it; I liked you too much.”

Harry resisted the urge to speak and waited several long moments for Ginny to continue.

“I think it drove me a bit mental. I tried to help fight the good fight at Hogwarts… it made me feel like we were together somehow, like I was a part of your mission, a part of your life, again. But every month, every week, every day that passed, being apart from you… the not knowing…”

Harry squeezed her hand tighter and smiled at her empathetically, though she wasn’t looking at him.

“When I thought you had died, something… broke… inside of me. That last thread that I was hanging by snapped.”

Ginny glanced up at Harry.

“I felt like I had died.”

She looked away again before continuing.

“And even though you came back, and you were okay, and you were right there beside me… that piece inside was still broken, and I didn’t really know why. But… I think it’s because I couldn’t forgive you for leaving me… leaving me to worry and wonder. I felt so powerless, Harry. It was torture."

Harry wanted so badly to hold her, but he kept his promise and continued to listen.

"But now, I think that I finally understand why I couldn’t come with you. I mean, I always knew the reason, but now I know it in my heart. The pain that I felt, when I thought you were dead… it’s what you feared, what you were desperate to avoid. You couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to me because you care about me that much… and having gone through your 'death', I understand that now in a way that I couldn’t before. So… I’m sorry for not understanding.”

Ginny looked up at Harry and added, smiling, “And… thank you, by the way, for saving the world.”

Harry looked at her and smiled back. He stopped walking and turned to face her, taking both of her hands in his.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. You had a right to feel the way that you did. It was torture for me, too. I hated leaving you… I hated myself for doing it. Staying away was so hard..."

Harry paused to consider his next words while he gently rubbed his thumbs along Ginny's knuckles, her hands still clasped in his.

"Thinking of you, of being with you again, was what kept me going. When I went to face Voldemort, I couldn't say goodbye because... well, because I knew that you were the only person that could have stopped me. And when... when I thought I was about to die… my last thought was of you, Ginny.”

Harry pulled Ginny close and, at long last, gave himself completely to her.

“I love you.”

Harry blinked and Ginny was kissing him, hungrily pulling him to her, her hands clenching the back of his shirt. He kissed her just as desperately, pressing her against him by the small of her back, running his fingers through her hair, all inhibitions and hesitation cast away. Even in his most vivid fantasies, Harry never could have dreamt this.

After several long, heavenly moments, Ginny pulled back, smiling and wiping away tears, and said, “In case you haven’t guessed yet, I love you too, Harry Potter.”

Cheers and applause erupted from the house; seemingly every person inside was looking through or hanging out of the windows. Ron, grinning, yelled, “Oi! Watch it, mate – that’s my sister you’re snogging!” Hermione was smiling, teary eyed. George wolf-whistled. Mrs. Weasley was beaming at them. Harry and Ginny flushed red and looked around in embarrassment.

Catching each other’s eyes, they kissed again and the cheering roared louder.

Harry had friends, family, and best of all, Ginny. It was all that he had ever wanted, all that he could have ever wished for.

All was well.
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