Afraid
After coming back down the marble staircase from visiting Professor Dumbledore's portrait for the last time, Harry, Ron and Hermione ducked into an alcove in one of the walls. Ron and Hermione allowed themselves to be led by Harry, who faced his two best friends and opened his mouth to speak. Hermione seemed to have anticipated that this would happen, and nodded.
'What is it, mate?' Ron asked.
'I've got to talk to her,' Harry said.
'Hermione's right here, Harry,' Ron said, looking nonplussed. Hermione smiled at Ron and Harry each in turn.
'Harry means he needs to talk to Ginny, Ron,' Hermione explained.
'About what? What are you going to tell her?' Ron asked.
'I've got no idea what I'm going to say to her – I have so much to say to her, but…' Harry trailed off. Ron nodded, understanding.
'I know. You go talk to her – Hermione and I will cover for you. God knows the "Harry needs his space" explanation should apply, considering what's just happened!'
Harry nodded. 'Thanks, mate, and Hermione – just… thanks.'
Hermione smiled. 'I wouldn't have missed it for the world.'
'Me neither, mate,' Ron said. 'Now, go on.'
'There's no need,' said a voice behind them. Harry, Ron and Hermione spun around in unison. There stood Ginny Weasley, her long red hair tangled and a sleeve of her jumper ripped to shreds. She looked enquiringly at Harry. He could not look her directly in the eye; it was over, completely over, Voldemort vanquished and the reality of being unburdened stole over him. It was too much to acknowledge at once.
'You wanted something?' she asked. He finally looked at her.
'Yeah, I do,' he said. 'I just wanted…' He gestured at her and then down the hall in a silent question. She nodded her understanding and started to walk; his feet would not move, and he felt like his tongue had just been hit with the Langlock jinx.
'Come on, Harry,' Ginny said, 'let's talk.'
She took him by the elbow and he fell into step beside her. Ginny steered them into a large, airy, empty classroom and locked the door with a muttered incantation. She did not seem to know whether to sit at a desk or stand up. It was so very awkward, Harry thought to himself. She settled for sitting atop a desk near the front, while Harry stood near the door.
'This is rather uncomfortable,' Ginny observed. Harry stared at her. They were standing nearly eight feet apart and the distance seemed completely unbridgeable. The air in the classroom crackled with tension, Ginny's expression sedate. 'Say it, Harry,' she said finally. 'Just tell me.'
Harry took a deep breath and attempted to speak through the lump in his throat. So many deaths, he thought, and yet so many still living and surviving. I'm alive and unhurt and so is she.
'Ginny, I don't know how to feel at the moment. I – I don't know how not to be scared,' Harry burst out. 'I've spent seven years being afraid of everything – being afraid to lose everyone I care about, him picking them off, one by one, and now that that danger doesn't exist anymore. I don't know what it is to live without fear.' Ginny stared back at him and opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it.
Harry seemed to be steeling himself to say something else. He clasped his hands together, looked down at his feet and then, with an effort, raised his head up again to meet Ginny's steady gaze. 'Ginny,' he said, fixing her with a stare that matched her piercing, bright brown eyes.
And without intervention or instruction from his senses, he was running towards her, across the divide that separated them, and she met him halfway, jumping off of the desk and getting to her feet. He snatched her up into a fierce embrace and kissed her long and deep, his hands tangling in her vivid hair. She responded with the same enthusiasm, parting her lips to admit him, and they kissed like that for several long moments, as though they were trying to memorise every aspect of the kiss, and every aspect of each other.
When they finally broke apart, Ginny's eyes were shining as she gazed up at him. He kissed her again, this time fiercely and passionately, and abruptly tore his lips away. Ginny's eyes snapped open in shock and fright. 'Harry –' she began uncertainly, but he cut her off. He drew in a quick gulp of oxygen and held his hand up in an "I'm not finished yet" gesture. She fell silent.
'I love you,' he told her. He said it in one rapid breath, his heart beating violently against the walls of the ribcage that held it in. Ginny's mouth dropped open and she stood there, encircled in Harry's arms, staring up at him. Harry dropped his arms, freeing her from their embrace. The moment was ruined, he thought, bloody brilliant effort –
'I love you, too,' she said simply, the corners of her lips turning up into a bright smile as she stood on tiptoe, linked her hands around Harry's neck and kissed him soundly.
She placed her palm gently on his cheek and brought her other hand up to rest in his hair. They kissed again, and after they broke apart, he leaned his forehead against hers, reveling in the nearness of her, and the sheer joy of touching her again. 'This is real,' she whispered. 'Oh, Harry.' Her tears made damp tracks down her cheeks, and when at last they looked at each other again, his eyes, too, were wet.