Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a goddess and I want to say that I don’t own anything in this story. Not one thing. Except perhaps the little blue urn.

Ginny was exhausted. Fred and George were celebrating Ron and Harry and Hermione’s graduation and Voldemort’s crushing defeat (his ashes were in a little blue urn locked up safely in Dumbledore’s office) and they had decided to throw an all out party in the Burrow. Needless to say, no parental units were home, and the revelry had lasted well past midnight. When they finally sent their guests home, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were so drunk that Hermione had had to put spells on them to make them sleep and in order to do that, she’d had to make them stay still which had involved plenty of crashing and banging around.

Ginny hadn’t been invited to the party, of course. She was underage — the only stupid member of her family still in school. She felt lonely and unwanted and she was certainly not going to enjoy school next year. It had been nice with Ron. She’d bonded with Hermione easily and with Harry…well, she was going to try and stop thinking about him. But aside from that, it was as though Ron had handed her a pack of friends and said, “Here, we’ll share.” Consequently, she hadn’t really made friends in her own grade.

There was a bang outside Ginny’s door and she ignored it, assuming that all the partiers had been put to sleep, as she’d heard Hermione say, “There we go. That’s the last one.” There were always curious noises in the Burrow, mostly due to Fred and George.

The bang — whatever it was — banged again and it sounded agitated. Especially when it was followed by a whiny, “Ginny! Lemme in!”

Ginny got up and walked to the door and opened it to see a very disheveled — and extremely sexy — Harry Potter. “Hey, Gin,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“Harry, it’s really late.”

“It’s summer vacation,” he said. He sounded drunk. “Come on, Ginny. Please?” And, of course, when Harry Potter smiled like that, Ginny couldn’t say no.

“All right,” she said. She stood by and let him in and immediately, he sat down on her bed. He looked…lonely. Not at all like the famous Boy Who Lived and Defeated the Dark Lord ought to look.

“What do I do now, Gin?” He asked. She took a seat on the chair in front of the vanity she’d begged from her parents on her fifteenth birthday.

“What do you mean? You’re going to spend the summer here and in autumn, you’re going to find a flat in London with Ron and Hermione and you and Ron are going to start your Auror training.” She looked at him cautiously. “Isn’t that right?”

“I killed him, Ginny.” He put his head in his hands. “It’s over.”

“Well, yes.” This seemed to be a ridiculous conversation. She felt a little bit sorry for him, but annoyed, too, because he did have a choice, and she was stuck in school for another year.

“So what do I do?” Obviously, she wasn’t getting something, because he sounded distraught and very needy.

“You’re going to go on with your life,” she said, figuring this was as good an answer as any.

“But why?” He raised his head and stared at her with those green eyes. “Why, Ginny?”

“Because you have to! Harry — it’s late and I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Really, she thought he sounded distinctly suicidal, wondering about the whys of life and all. She figured that he needed some quality time in St. Mungo’s.

“All my life,” Harry said, in this really soft, scary voice, “or at least since I learned I was a wizard, Voldemort’s been the one thing keeping me going. Every step I took, every choice I made, they all led to his destruction. Why’d I choose to be an Auror? Because if I hadn’t killed him by the end of seventh year, being an Auror would put me closest to his defeat.”

“You’re really pissed,” Ginny said, laughing nervously.

“I’m not. Not anymore.” Harry sighed. “I’m serious. I don’t have anything propelling me anymore. I spent seven years in the greatest wizardry academy in the world and I came out of it thinking only about killing and death. I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve wasted all this time, Gin.”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Ginny heard herself saying. Why am I encouraging him? She thought. Shut up, Gin, and maybe he will too. He’s drunk off his rocker.

“But you know what you’re good at,” Harry said. “You’re good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, right?”

“Yes,” Ginny said, blushing. He probably just heard it from Ron in passing, she reminded herself. But he remembered! “And I know I hate Charms and I’m as hopeless as Hermione at Divination. What does that matter?”

“I don’t know that stuff,” Harry moaned. “All the extra lessons, the professors I’ve gone to — it wasn’t for extra help in Charms or Transfiguration. It was all to defeat Voldemort. And that’s over now.”

“Harry,” Ginny said, “you have plenty of time to figure it out, don’t you? Why are you worrying about it now?”

“There’s a flat rent with my name on a third of it,” Harry said, “and I’ve had offers from a bunch of Quidditch teams.”

“That’s amazing!”

“What if it’s the wrong choice?” Harry looked sad. “It might be and then I’m stuck for the rest of my life.”

“Is there a right choice?” Ginny said gently. Gin, stop before you start convincing him one way or the other. “I mean, I could work at St. Mungo’s or The Daily Prophet or become an Auror and who’s to say that one of those is better for me?”

“You have a year,” Harry said glumly. “I could’ve had that year, too, but I spent it worrying about Voldemort.”

“You did the right thing,” Ginny said gently. “You saved all these people. You won out, Harry, and nobody will ever forget that. You could hole yourself up and write a novel and when you came out, people would still say, ‘There goes Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.’”

Harry chuckled sadly. “I’ve forgotten more than just schoolwork, Gin,” he said. “Have you seen Ron and Hermione together? They look so happy and content together. I wish I had that.”

“You will,” Ginny said. Her mouth had suddenly become very dry — it was difficult to tell Harry that he’d find love when she desperately wanted to apply for the position.

“I could’ve already,” Harry said. He stood up and she did too because it would’ve been too crazy otherwise. “I…I know who she is, Gin. I’ve just wasted a lot of time getting to it.”

“Harry —” Was it wrong that she didn’t want to hear this? Cho Chang, he could say, or Parvati. What difference did it make to her?

“She’s beautiful and smart and she’s got the greatest family.” Harry smiled fondly. Nobody would describe my family as “great,” Ginny told herself, feeling jealous. And I’m not beautiful or particularly smart. Not by Hermione’s standards, anyway. “Harry,” she said again, “why don’t you show her how you feel?”

“I guess you’re right,” he said.

And then he leaned over and kissed her. Not a big, long kiss with tongues or anything, but that didn’t matter because Ginny felt the heat of his lips on hers and she was certain he did too, because when he pulled back, he looked anxious. She realized it was her turn. To kiss him or not?

And that was when Ginny stopped listening to her inner voice.