Two weeks after the final battle. Harry should have felt absolutely elated, right? Voldemort could finally be trapped in his past and mention of his name could only redraw memories, instead of map out future fear. But, that's how he should have felt. Right now Harry was feeling multiple things. A bit intrusive... or extremely intrusive. He'd been staying at the burrow with the Weasleys. Harry insisted he wouldn't be cumbersome to them any longer, but Mrs. Weasley was too hospitable to deny him the undeserved comfort. One thing was certain, she did exactly this. She made him feel like he belonged in their home, which, in reality, he really felt he didn't.

The Weasleys continued to tell him that he bore no responsibility to the battle's casualties, that Voldemort's demise was bound to occur with a forever scarring bang. But as far as Harry was concerned, it didn't have to happen that way. There were many nights where he would fall into and endless pit of possible alternative outcomes and only jolted back to the grim reality to Ron's stirring in the night. But just because that lifted him back up, didn't mean that his resolving to silence didn't drop him back into those daydreams in the night. They could technically be considered daydreams, because he never slept when he thought of happier outcomes consisting of a very much alive Fred Weasley joking with his twin George, and a Teddy Lupin with two parents to love him, and a Severus Snape who deserved to be alive, get a second chance at living...

Sure, these were happy thoughts, right? Yea, happy while they lasted. Reality wasn't so perfect. Reality was actually ten times more painful every time he came back from his imaginary world.

So, yes, Harry felt like a huge burden to the Weasleys. Normally he didn't feel this way around them, they were the closest thing to a family he ever had. But these past weeks were different, because even though Harry's been suffering a great deal of aftershock from the battle, he hadn't lost a brother. A son. A twin...

They all tried to put up a brave front, but they were all hurting just as much as Harry was, if not more. They hadn't seen George much since May second. Maybe about 4 times per person. He remained shut up in his room. It was his cage, visitors would come to see him, feed him, give him sentiments, and it would only make him more frustrated. Harry herd a lot of crying from Fred and George's room when he wasn't sleeping (I guess it's just George's room now) Tears stung Harry's eyes at the thought.

That wasn't the only thing making him feel unwelcome, although it was an overwhelmingly large factor. It didn't help that Ginny's presence in the burrow was like a throbbing aura that bounced off of every wall and disturbed every moment of his temporary peace of mind. When his thoughts were lucky enough to stray from his guilt and sorrow (okay maybe he was wallowing a bit too much, it mustn't have been very becoming...) his mind would just jump to the other side of his brain. Ginny.

There were so many things Harry never got to say to her. Not even good-bye before departing on his journey to search for horcruxes. As if good-bye could suffice for the feelings he had for her. Corny? Yes. But true? Completely.

Harry's thoughts had then took a dangerous turn down a lane of happiness. Moments that seemed so ancient that he had with Ginny in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Moments that they could have one day, more snogging, more holding, more stolen moments alone. Suddenly an image of Ginny popped into his head similar to the one he had about twenty-four hours before Bill and Fleur's wedding of Ginny marching down a wedding aisle adorned in a beautiful white gown that accentuated her fiery red hair and gave her skin a brilliant glow. The difference between the image then and the image now, was that Harry was waiting for Ginny at the end of the march. He was what she was gliding toward...

"Supper!"

His perverse imagination was disrupted by Mrs. Weasley's announcement of dinner being served. Harry had been in the sitting room with the rest of the Weasley kids. The room was actually buzzing with excitement, but Harry would never have known due to his inattentive mind. Normally these days at the burrow would be spent talking with his best friends Ron and Hermione, but they've spent the last 2 weeks snogging or doing some couple-y thing or another. The entire room moved and re congregated at the kitchen table. Harry hadn't talked much. He made his usual attempt to make light conversation with Ron, but gave up when he saw his and Hermione's hands intertwined on his lap.

Harry sighed and ate his food without daring to pick up his heavy gaze. He shouldn't have been feeling like this, he should have been filled with nothing but lightness and joy. Hello, the war's over! Voldemort's gone! Thoughts like that gave him higher morale for only a moment, until he looked around at the grieving Weasleys surrounding him. They acted as if everything were normal, but it wasn't. Maybe it was all in his head, because they all wore faces of excitement to be together as a family. But they weren't a family, not entirely. They never would be again, as one member was ripped apart from them forever without even permitting a good-bye...

The meal was over and suddenly Harry found himself alone again. He aimlessly stood up and his feet mechanically moved themselves along, with a mind of their own. He found himself outside by the garden. It was peaceful out here, Harry hadn't realized until right then that it would be a perfect place for solitude. He squatted down on the grass, put his head between his knees and took and took a deep breathe filling his lungs with the much needed fresh air. There he sat for what seemed like the longest of time. He took in the warm air accompanied by a perfectly contrasting cool air. He allowed the soft strands of grass to dance in the breeze and tickle his bare feet.

The sky- already darkening when he first came to his resting spot- was now near pitch black. Everything was still and calm. It felt extremely therapeutic. Harry hadn't experienced this much calm in the longest of time. Suddenly, the rustling of grass nearby broke him out of his dream world. He couldn't make it out, but there was a figure approaching him. Ron? He didn't call out, maybe whoever it was would come to the conclusion that- due to the darkness- no one was out there, and would leave Harry to reenter his simple, airy state of mind. But whoever it was was walking with more purpose by the second.

Once the figure was about two yards away, Harry realized, to his horror, exactly who it was. Ginny had reached his side and knelt down. Harry wasn't sure if he was ready to talk to her quite yet. He'd told himself he would, but his bloody nerves continued to get the best of him. And at the same time, he knew that if he didn't act soon Ginny would move on...

She gently placed her arm around his back and gave him a light squeeze. A few strands of her soft ginger hair fell onto Harry's face. He could smell her cool minty breathe and felt butterflies explode in his stomach. But it felt so right...

The moment lasted hardly a second. Ginny got up to go inside. Harry hadn't registered how much he'd been starved of her presence, and he craved it now more than ever. He thought he'd wanted to be alone, and obviously so did Ginny. No, Ginny knew he wanted to be alone. Harry realized she knew him so much better than anyone else. Like a piece of her soul lived inside of him. Like a horcrux, but not in a bad sort of way. Anyone else would try to pull him inside, try to shove words out of him and get him spill out all of his emotions. Ginny knew he didn't want to speak...

Harry realized he was letting her get away from him. He sharply lifted up his arm and gripped Ginny's wrist with his thumb and pointer-finger hugging it, and looked up to try to make out her expression. She'd whipped around, shocked, probably. Harry couldn't see through to deep blackness of the night, but he could have sworn he saw her lift an eyebrow.

"Ginny?" his voice cracked, it was slightly embarrassing.

She hesitated before finally she said, "Yes, Harry..." it wasn't a question, but a statement. Like she was answering his question before he could even ask it, or even form it. Well that's what it seemed to him. Harry decided to ask it anyway, just incase he had guessed wrong about her intentions in her tone of voice.

"Can... can we please... I mean... Ginny I'm not..." he hadn't exactly practiced this, maybe he should have, because he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say to her.

She sat down right next to him, her upper arm brushed against his. He had to take a long deep breathe, her touch sent electric sparks through his veins. If he thought her presence was glaringly obvious before, it was nothing compared to now. He could feel heat rising to his face. Even though they shared that one, perversely satisfying moment together snogging on Harry's birthday, they were not officially "back together". Harry really regretted breaking up with her on the outskirts of the Hogwart's grounds the day of Dumbledore's funeral. He knew it had to have been done, or Ginny would have been in danger. If he really loved her- Then his train of thought screeched to an immediate halt. Did he? Did he love her? The thought hadn't even cropped up in his mind, even though Ginny was one of the only things that occupied it. Maybe it seemed so clear to him, the thought even registering in his head seemed trivial and unnecessary. Harry loved her. Harry Potter loved Ginevra Weasley. That realization caused his eyes to bulge, this wasn't going to be any easier now that that fact was known to him. It was always there, but it was hiding itself. Being crushed by worry, fear, and terror. And here it resurfaced perfectly unscathed and ready to be known to everyone. But Harry wasn't.

He turned his stiff neck toward her. Even in the pitch black swallowing everything up, she was beautiful. Ginny hadn't said a word, she was waiting for him to speak first. He took a deep breathe and began, "Ginny, I love you."

No. No no no no. Did he really just say that? No! That wasn't going to go over well! His stomach lurched and he made his way to his feet about to run inside and lock himself in Ron's room for... for forever. But this time it was Ginny's turn to grab Harry's wrist. He looked at her. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see her face was perfectly stoical and blank. Like a rock, frozen in time. Her face had seemed to have been like that since she set herself next to him.

"I really didn't mean to say-" Harry began but was instantly cut off.

"Harry sit back down," she said in a near whisper.

He risked more embarrassment, acquiesced, and waited for her to speak. Her pale face looked unbelievably soft and those soft pink lips looked unbelievably welcoming. He watched them as she spoke, he watched them with longing.

"Harry. I want to be with you. You should know that. Haven't I been hopelessly obsessed with you since I was... what? Eleven? Ten? But we need to talk first."

Harry nodded and watched understanding set in her face. He couldn't speak, he feared it would sound shaky and weak. At least there was hope. Ginny had said it aloud that she wasn't over him. What a relief!

"Why did you break up with me?"

Harry couldn't get away with just a simple gesture this time, but he went for the most simple answer he could, "I... I told you why. Remember?"

She nodded, "Because you wanted to protect me from Voldemort even though I made it perfectly clear I didn't care if he was after me," her voice was so thick with irony a hammer couldn't penetrate it. She used her middle and pointer finger to draw air-quotes around the word "protect".

"Well..." he racked his brain for a better argument but settled with, "Yes. That's why."

"I can take care of myself, Harry!" her voice was rising, Harry flinched at her intensity.

"I know that now, Ginny," his voice seemed safe from shakiness, now, so he continued to plead his case, "And I didn't realize it at the time. I just... I just wanted to do everything in my power to make you safe. I knew at the time I'd have to leave you for Merlin knows how long. I just couldn't stand the fact that you would be in danger because of me."

"Harry Potter!" her voice was strong, but not overly resentful. She was definitely annoyed, though. "Harry Potter you need to know right now that if we get back together you need to treat me as I am; equally as strong as you are."

Harry knew it was true. If anything she was much stronger than he was right now. In fact, she'd always been a better wizard and a much stronger person. So many glaringly obvious facts that were tantalizingly close finally penetrated his thick skull. It was a lot to take in, but if it would give Harry more of a chance to be with Ginny, he'd accept it.

"I promise, Ginny. I know that now. I hadn't taken the time to register that. All I was concerned about was your safety, at the time..." his voice broke on the word safety. It was weakening again. It wasn't possible to barrel on talking from there. Harry realized that he couldn't figure out a way to explain himself and convince her how desperately he wanted her to be his. He stared forward at the burrow and sighed. Maybe he'd never get her back.

"Harry..." Ginny sighed beside her. He turned his face to glimpse hers. It may be the last time he was ever morally permitted to look at her in such a loving way again. But to his shock, her face had neared his by at least five inches. His eyes widened, but let them shut immediately to just revel in it. She touched her nose to his chin, tilting her head back slightly and took a long inhale. Harry's butterflies forced his stomach to do two whole somersaults and his eyelids fluttered a bit.

"Harry I love you, too."

His eyes popped back open at this. He didn't move his head, not wanting to change this moment. But shocked flushed through every cell in his body. And then happiness. A thousand birds singing in gratitude. The tides of the world flowing in his favor. Finally.

She lifted her head just enough to look into his eyes "Harry, I love you. I thought you'd know that by now." she said it quietly. Even quieter than almost all the other things she'd said in a near whisper, "And, you're not exactly off the hook yet. You'd better prove to me you have faith in me"

"I promise," he said cautiously.

"Oh yea?" she teased, "and exactly how are you going to prove that."

The corners of Harry's lips turned up ever-so-slightly at this and he said, "Eh, I'll think of something."

"What time is it?" he asked suddenly.

She slightly parted her lips as they traveled toward his. It was much too slow for him, now. He hadn't had a moment with her like this for over six months. He fastened his hands onto Ginny's cheeks and pulled her into him. Her lips caressed his with a certain confidence and sureness. Her arms twisted around his neck and she eventually she adjusted her position onto her knees to more comfortably press herself against him. He mimicked her motions as his hands climbed her back gently until his fingers found her hair and began to mindlessly twist it around his palm and fingers. He was becoming lightheaded from the feel of her velvety lips, her confident tongue, her soft vivid hair...

The sparks shooting off from the butterfly's wings inside of him didn't help, and without thought the two softly crashed onto the grass without changing the positions of their arms. They were lying on the grass entwining their legs together and brushing their feet against each other. Her hands were laced through his hair tugging on individual strands in a non-painful, but satisfying way. They continued to kiss and kiss, he toyed his tongue around her mouth in a more and more playful way causing her to occasionally give a muffled giggle without breaking their bond. His hands worked their way down the sides of her body and slowly climbed back up. He felt much more comfortable with every different motion as his hands explored every area of her body he was sure wouldn't make her too uncomfortable. Until his hands had traced over every part of her clothed skin, he was enticed by the idea of prying off the extra layers. He worked his hands underneath her shirt and danced his fingers around her bare skin and stroking his palms against her abdomen and the small of her back in a circular motion. They kissed more intensely, but before they could explore anything more intimate, they're moment was broken when they herd a call from the front of the house. Harry quickly pulled his hands away, and reluctantly they separated their lips and freed their legs from each other's. It didn't matter who it was so had seen them, he didn't need whoever it was to see he and Ginny like that. Harry had forgotten there was another world, the only thing that mattered was Ginny. Just her. Nothing else existed. It suddenly dawned on Harry that he was hearing Hermione's voice. He was thankful for that. If there was just one other person he wouldn't really have to fear catching them, it was Hermione.

"Harry?" she called, "Ginny? Are- are you guys out here?" Hermione called tentatively. She seemed to have been suspecting something. Harry knew Hermione too well to not notice what her different tones of voice meant.

Harry and Ginny rolled their backs onto the grass, still keeping their bodies together and curling their fingers together. She looked over at him and he returned the glimmer in her eyes. Her eyes had a beautiful twinkle to them, one he couldn't ever forget. Her mouth exploded into a flawless grin, and he couldn't help but smile back. He let Hermione's worried voice fall into a buzz in the background. Ginny's eyes filled his vision, he wanted them to be implanted in his mind forever. Harry wasn't quite sure what his expression read, but it had to have resembled Ginny's. Her face was glowing and beautiful. They're eyes were locked as if they were mentally communicating. Her eyes weren't protruding from her head, but instead her eyelids had fallen partially over her eyes. Only barely. Her pupils were huge, ballooned up, and glittering. Her silk, rich hair cascaded all around her shoulders, crossing over her neck and a few strands escaping onto her cheeks. Her beauty and perfection had always been there, if only Harry had gotten to be with her more. They continued to transfer their love through just their stares until Hermione's shouts made themselves known again.

Hermione had been yelling before, but it had been tuned out by both Harry and Ginny. Her yells were getting louder and louder now without them even knowing it, until now. "HARRY POTTER AND GINNY WEASLEY. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW AND STOP MAKING EVERYONE THINK YOU'VE RUN OFF!" she paused for a minute and her next words were a shriek, "STOP SCARING ME!" Now that his mind had penetrated into reality, Harry could hear Ron's groaning next to Hermione.

"Hermione, maybe you don't care, but I honestly don't want to know," he whined.

"Ronald! What if your best mate and your own sister have gone missing?" her voice was beginning to squeak, it only happened when she got really worried.

"Alright, let's not give her a heart attack," Harry joked and he pulled himself to standing.

"Classic Hermione," Ginny laughed, "Come on," It felt odd standing again. Harry hadn't recovered from the kiss yet. He reached out his hand and lifted Ginny back to her feet. They grasped each other's hands to ensure that they wouldn't have to break apart anytime soon. Her warm hands seemed to fit his perfectly. Like every other hand he'd held was just trial, and he'd found the perfect fit. They walked at their own slow pace back to the front of the burrow.

"Oi! Hermione! Calm down and turn around!" Ron and Hermione had been bickering about Harry and Ginny's whereabouts, but at Ron's statement, Hermione flipped around sharply to see Harry and Ginny standing behind her.

Her mouth gaped open and her eyebrows creased together. She looked like she was about to reprimand them until her eyes fell on Harry and Ginny's hands squeezing each other. She looked back up to them and bit her lip, trying to force back a smile.

"Well. It's about time, then. Just... don't run off like that it's almost 11 o'clock at night!" she squinted her eyes and chewed on her lip in contemplation now, furrowing her eyebrows. She finally said in an exasperated tone, "Oh just please come inside!"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and broke out laughing. Taking one look at Ron's face, which was mingled with confusion and some horror, made them laugh even harder. Ginny was doubled over, and Harry's knees were threatening to give out.

"I don't want to know," Ron groaned and walked back inside. That just made them laugh more. It took at least five minutes for them to calm down a bit enough to stand straight. He took a deep breathe, unable to wipe the grin off of his face. All of the heavy dejected feeling he had earlier were gone without any mingling trace that they'd ever existed. He hadn't felt so happy since... wow, he couldn't even remember! They walked inside and sat on the couch in the sitting room and sat there for the rest of the night just talking. Not about anything heavy, or anything really in particular. He couldn't imagine even having a conversation like this with Ron or Hermione, and they were his best friends. He realized Hermione would probably find out all about tonight, because if Ginny didn't tell her, she would antagonize Harry until he told her. But he didn't really care. Just sitting there and talking and laughing was better than any date they could have possibly gone on. It wasn't until early in the morning when they both started to feel the heavy fatigue that had probably been looming around for at least an hour or so. Harry had no desire to move or go anywhere, and obviously neither did Ginny. He resolved to stretching out along the couch, taking up all of the room.

"Hey!" Ginny laughed.

Harry laughed, too, "I'm tired, Ginny!"

Both giggling, she lied down partially on top of Harry, her head against his chest and shut her eyes. Harry combed his finger through her vibrant red locks. It took him a while to realize she had fallen asleep. Her face was calm and peaceful, her head was warm against his chest, he looked at her with a sort of passion that totally engulfed his every cell. Harry felt whole. He continued to stroke her long strands of glossy hair until he himself drifted to sleep.

The comfort he'd felt in the past few hours didn't keep away the nightmares. Tonight's was particularly nasty, actually. Thankfully it was interrupted by someone shaking his shoulders.

Harry felt sweat beaded up on his forehead and was panting. He was staring right into Ginny's face, and his mind recollected all the wonders of the previous night.

"What time is it?" Harry asked a little worried.

"About 4:30," her voice was a bit strained, "Are you okay, Harry."

He saw her eyebrows were laced together, Harry didn't want to see her worry like that, "It was just a nightmare," he said simply, pulling her into a hug. Harry just wanted to hold her like that, because that alone was comforting.

"You were scaring me," she said quietly.

"Im sorry," he responded sincerely, "I have bad dreams often."

Harry expected Ginny to ask about the dream, but she didn't. He remembered her uncanny ability to tune into Harry's emotions. She would know he didn't want to talk. So he pulled her in tighter and allowed the soft skin of her arms to be all of the consolation he needed.

Harry tilted his head forward and kissed the top of her head, "When I was gone..." be began in a near whisper, "When I was gone, I never stopped thinking about you," he decided not to mention how he would religiously pull out his Marauders map to just see that Ginny was there, imagining he was watching her sleep.

"That's not true," she said in a flat voice. Like she was sure of this fact.

"It is," he acquiesced and told her about the Marauders. He couldn't see her face, but her voice was filled with shock when she spoke.

"Really?" she seemed at loss for words after that.

"Really. And when I went into the forest... did Hermione tell you why I went into the forest?" Harry didn't feel like explaining it, but he felt her nod against his chest and took it as signal to move on, "Well, you were the last thing I thought about."

Ginny didn't speak at first, Harry was worried he'd crossed the line of creepiness. But she snuggled closer to him and said, "I'll never forgive you for making me think you were dead, Harry."

That was good enough for him. Harry knew that meant he was thinking about him , too. He smiled and rested his head against Ginny's. Slowly, Harry drifted back to sleep. No nightmares this time, just similar situations to the one he had about twenty-four hours before Bill and Fleur's wedding of Ginny marching down a wedding aisle adorned in a beautiful white gown that accentuated her fiery red hair and gave her skin a brilliant glow. The difference between the image then and the image now, was that Harry was waiting for Ginny at the end of the march. He was what she was gliding toward.

This time there was no guilt in the dreams, because they were more viable now that ever.