It's a quarter past midnight and the house is eerily silent without the usual hushed-whispers or occasional bangs and crashes from Fred and George's room. Well, just George's room now.
Harry's having trouble falling asleep tonight. And every night since that night. The night Harry lost more than a few people and places he loved.
He gets up. He won't succumb to the nightmares again. Not tonight.
The bright orange room is uncomfortable without Ron's loud snoring bouncing off the walls. Him and Hermione have been in Australia for a few days now seeking out her parents. Being away from them is harder than he anticipated. The dull ache and longing for his best friends has been haunting his nightmares, adding to the usual terrors, since the day they left.
He walks downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. Strong tea. If he's not sleeping tonight he doesn't want to show it. Molly would know. She would tie his head to a pillow and wrap him in a blanket herself if need be.
The kettle would be too loud; with a half-hazard swish of his wand his water is hot enough to steep some leaves. He was never any good at the household spells, anyways.
"Harry?"
Ginny appears from around the corner, almost as surprised as he is.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" he says before he even notices the words left his lips.
"I couldn't." Her hair is disheveled and her eyes puffy. He should have known; he wasn't the only one suffering lately.
"Here, have some of this. Really, have some."
He pushed his mug towards her.
"Ginny?"
"Mmm?" She makes a sour face at the taste of her first sip of his, admittedly, awful tea.
"Want to go for a walk?"
Not quite being summer yet there is a bit of a chill to the air. Enough to make her teeth chatter, leaning just a bit closer to Harry with each step away from the Burrow. Not to mention it's the dead of the night.
Dead. Like her brother. Like she thought Harry was.
They walk towards the pond enjoying the solidity of each other for what seems like the first time in an eternity. Harry slows to a stop and Ginny turns to face him. His eyes are wet. His breaths are shaky and she knows this is it. His armor is off. He needs her as much as she's been needing him, both too proud to admit it.
Harry puts his hands around her face, feeling the tears rolling down her eyes with his thumbs. Ginny grabs his head and brings him into her chest as they sink to the ground.
Ginny finds his mouth with hers, pinning Harry to the damp grass. He brings her closer until their just a tangle of limbs and tears.
Ginny breaks apart for a moment, just enough space between them so she can look into his deep green eyes.
And softly, "Harry. Thank you for being the boy who lived."
Again.