This is my version about what happened after the war, before the Nineteen Years…This is my first serious FanFic, and I really hope to carry it out…
Harry woke up the next morning at noon, his hair in odd angles, messier then usual. Ron was snoring loud and obnoxiously on the other side of the curtain, and Harry promptly ignored him. He thought about what had just happened the previous night; Voldemort's defeat, Fred, Tonks, and Lupin's deaths, along with many others; and the fact that some of the people that meant so much to Harry were still alive, like Neville, Luna, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys.
Many of the seventh years that had remained left during the night; scared, wanting to go home, feel safe and protected, even though Harry's near-death experience had protected them all. Quietly, Harry slipped out of his bed, and opened his trunk, and getting dressed as fast as he could. He flattened down his hair hastily with his hands, and headed down to the Gryffindor common room. To his surprise, Hermione and Ginny were down there, whispering loudly, but quietly enough so that Harry could not hear them. Hermione looked up as Harry walked in. "Harry!" she said, full of warmth. "How are you feeling?"
"All right, I guess," Harry replied, looking at Ginny, who was looking right back at him. Seeing this, Hermione said nothing, until Ginny looked away with an annoyed air about her. "Well, I was going down to get some breakfast…Any of you like to join me?"
Hermione gave a sideways glance at Ginny, who glared back at Hermione. "Yes, we would," Hermione said, tugging on Ginny's arm, who was resisting slightly. "Ginny," Hermione hissed, and Ginny ripped her arm from Hermione's grasp and followed Harry out of the common room, speaking to no one. When they entered the Hall, it was slightly worn looking. Dust had cake up around the perimeters of the room, and some of the pieces of building that had fallen off looked as though they had been repaired rather carelessly.
As Harry sat down at the table, Kreacher Apparated, with a dish full of food. "Master did very well," Kreacher croaked. "Kreacher has been proved wrong; Master, not pure, completed pure-blood's job. Kreacher is proud of master."
"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry said, looking at Hermione, whose eyes were tearing up.
"That was beautiful," Hermione whispered, and Kreacher tried not to wince, but he Disapparated and Apparated back with two dishes for Hermione and Ginny. Harry looked around as he ate, realizing there was a few people, scattered around; the Weasleys were at one table in the far corner, and McGonagall was looking pinched and tired, but rather relieved, as were most of the other teachers, because of Voldemort's death.
Mrs. Weasley glanced up and saw the three of them sitting there, stuffing their food in their mouths as fast as they could. "Oh, there's Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried, and she rushed forward to see him. "Harry, Harry, we all thought you'd died – what happened, dear?"
Harry realized that no one actually knew what had happened before he'd been carried in, looking dead. "Um, well…" He began, feeling Ginny's eyes on him. "Well, I was supposed to die." Harry hoped he didn't sound like he wanted to be dead, he didn't think he wanted to be dead. "But, since I was a horcrux, it killed that part of Voldemort in me, and then…Well, Mrs. Malfoy told Voldemort I was dead, and Hagrid had to bring me back inside…And then you know what happened from there." Ginny did not look satisfied – she knew there was more, and Harry knew that she would not rest until she knew.
"You poor, poor dear," Mrs. Weasley said, patting his cheek, and Harry turned faintly pink. Ginny gave a hint of a smile for the first time in a while that Harry had seen.
Harry quickly stood up and Kreacher took his plates, and he received many pats on the back and good comments, and he scurried upstairs until he felt someone give a firm hold on his arm. "You are going to talk to me," Ginny growled, and Harry ducked his head, nodding; and as he made his way to the dormitory, Ginny on his tail.
He sat down on his bed, and Ginny sat next to him. Ron and Neville were no longer in the room; they must have gone down to breakfast, Harry assumed. Dean had left with his parents last night, as had Seamus. "Harry…you need to tell me what happened. What was going through your mind when you decided to give yourself into Voldemort? What were you thinking?"
Harry stared at Ginny; instead of focusing on her light brown eyes, he focused on her red Weasley hair. "Well, I was thinking everyone would be safe, and I was right, wasn't I?"
Ginny said nothing.
"And I thought that it'd end. If I didn't let him kill me, no one would have made it. He wouldn't have wasted a second destroying Hogwarts." Harry glanced at the wall, past Ron's bed, then back at Ginny. This time, he stared her straight in the eye. "I did it for the good of everyone else."
Ginny seemed to relent, and then she seemed to give in, and she leaned in and kissed him, and Harry had flashbacks of before the quest for the horcruxes, in Ginny's room, and not being able to continue the kiss – and he kissed her back with such a need and urgency that Ginny fell backward; she ripped off his shirt, barely thinking, and hers was slowly slipped up, bunched up top. And then the door to the dorm opened, and someone said, "Oh." And Harry and Ginny stopped, paralyzed, and looked up. Standing there, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else, was Ron. He was white, very pale, as if he did not want to imagine what he'd barged in on. "Sorry…" He muttered, trying to shut the door, but someone came up behind him.
"Oh, I have something to tell Harry…" And Mrs. Weasley was behind Ron, and she pushed by him, and then she saw Harry and Ginny, and she stopped as well. "What is going on?!" she shrieked.
Harry and Ginny hastily pulled away, Ginny pulling down her shirt and Harry throwing his back on. They were both rather red in the face, with Ron still goggling at them and Mrs. Weasley looking extremely outraged. "Well, I suppose I must give you the talk, Ginevra…You as well, Ronald, and Harry…Well, Harry never received one, so he might as well…"
Ginny looked away from everyone, between the space of Mrs. Weasley and Ron, still crowded in the doorway. Mrs. Weasley seated herself on Ron's bed. "Well, Ginny and Harry, I know you may be experiencing some more, well, mature feelings about each other…" Ginny turned positively bright red.
"Mum!" Ron yelled, now looking embarrassed and outraged, "Ginny already knows this, she's had Michael Corner and Dean Thomas, and now Harry –"
Ginny was shooting Ron death looks, telling him to stop, and Harry looked like he wanted to melt into the wall. "Oh, well, then," Mrs. Weasley said, looking stumped. "Later, then, but don't let me run in on you again…" She ran out, pushing past Ron again.
Ron stayed, staring at them. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?" he said, looking positively stunned.
"You see, that's the problem," Harry said, still very red. "We weren't thinking."
Ron sighed. "This is painful." Ginny was not speaking, but she'd turned ever redder; now it looked like she'd gotten one horrible sunburn after another.
"Oi, well," Ron said. "I'm going to go find 'Mione. I know she has brains, don't I?"
He left Ginny and Harry sitting there, Ginny playing with loose threads on his comforter. "Look, Ginny, I'm really sorry about –"
"My fault just as much as yours, Harry," Ginny said, and she looked at him again. "So, now that Voldemort's gone, what's next?"
Please R&R! This is one of my first FanFics, so don't be harsh…Thanks!
