Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Release

By: ChoCedric

As Harry left the Headmaster's office with Ron and Hermione after his talk with Dumbledore's portrait, exhaustion swept over him in waves. All he wanted to do was to go back to Gryffindor Tower and sleep for a long, long time. He was also hungry, and the thought of Kreacher bringing him a sandwich was extremely appealing.

He gave a weak smile to Ron and Hermione as he told them what he wanted to do, and they understood immediately. They would head back to the Great Hall while Harry headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. As they left each other, he gave them a look that told them how grateful he was that they'd stuck by him for all the trials and tribulations of all these years.

The thought of sleep pushing him onward, Harry entered the Gryffindor common room, which looked heartbreakingly like he remembered it. It was as if a war had not happened at all. It was as though the deaths of Fred, remus, Tonks, Snape, Colin, and all the others had never happened.

And this was too much for the young hero who had just defeated Voldemort. The cloud of grief that hung over him was unbearable. As he collapsed into one of the squashy armchairs, he rested his head in his hands and finally succumbed to the sobs that had been building up in him all year. Memories rushed back to him of all the blood which had been spilt, of Fred's lifeless eyes, of Remus and Tonks lying in the Great Hall as though asleep, of George kneeling by Fred's head with a look of deep anguish and agony on his freckled face, of Snape bleeding to death, asking to look into his eyes, his mother's eyes... God, it was too much.

He didn't think he'd cried like this in his entire life. Not when Cedric had been killed in front of him, not when he'd watched the only family he had left die, not even when he'd been unable to prevent Albus Dumbledore's death from happening right within his sights. The sobs were all-consuming, tearing his soul apart as agony ripped through his body.

At that moment, the portrait hole opened again, but Harry was oblivious to the sound, he was so deep in his heartwrenching anguish. But he did feel the arms that wound their way around him, heard the gentle voice whisper in his ear as her own tears fell down her face. "I'm here, Harry. It's okay. Let it out, love. You have every right to cry. Don't hold back."

And it made him cry all the harder. After such a long, long journey, he was finally seeing the person he wanted to see above all others, the one person he'd been longing to hold for a year but had forbidden himself to have that luxury. It was Ginny Weasley, Ginny holding him, Ginny comforting him. And he didn't even feel embarrassed. He just let himself go, tears pouring down his face like a flood. The young woman shook in his arms, now crying as hard as he was, no longer able to speak.

For long, long minutes, the two of them held each other like that, both releasing all the pent-up emotion that had been locked within them for the past year. Ginny cried for the hurt she saw in Harry, the fact that he looked so lost, vulnerable, and alone. This was a side of Harry that she didn't think even Ron and Hermione had ever seen, and she knew he wouldn't ever let them witness something like this. The fact that he was letting her in showed her that he trusted her above anyone else, that he truly did love her, and she sobbed without restraint as the love she felt for him in return overpowered her. She felt relief, such relief at the fact that he was safe and alive, but she was also experiencing suffocating guilt at feeling this way. After all, her beloved brother Fred was lying dead in the Great Hall, never to crack a joke again. She remembered George's anguished face, his horrified and pain-filled screams, and it made her feel awful that she was not with him. But she knew that even through his agony, George would tell her that Harry needed to be held up right now, so he could finally release his emotions and not have to play the martyr, the hero. He had been strong for so long; he had every right to fall apart. Ginny had always marveled at his strength, and she'd tried as well to be the lively, sassy redhead everyone thought her to be. But she just couldn't take it anymore. The deaths of so many she had held dear pushed on her, and she couldn't even imagine what this must be like for Harry, who had been in the thick of it for all this time. She vowed to herself that no matter what happened, she'd help him get through this, and she had a strong feeling he'd help her in return.

Finally, their sobs subsided, and they just lay in each other's arms, content in the knowledge that after all this time, after this long, horrifying, strenuous journey, they were finally together again.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry croaked, lifting his head from Ginny's chest. "We ... we're going to be okay, aren't we?"

Ginny looked into his beautiful, tear-filled emerald eyes, answering in the same soft voice he had used. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be okay."

And as they continued to lie there, they knew that their words were true. They knew they had a lot to talk about, a lot to get through; they knew there were wounds which hadn't at all started healing yet and wouldn't for a long time. But for now, they gripped each other tightly, knowing that they had all the time in the world now to talk, and to love one another without anyone or anything tearing them apart ever again.