She goes to see him sometimes.
The moments are quiet, too personal, too close to whatever it is she thought she had left behind in the war. Everyone has battle scars, and he has always been the one to give her the space to feel hers. Funny, she thinks, how the space feels so stifling, suffocating, even when there's so much distance between them, opposite ends of the room and she thinks, she thinks, it never used to be like this.
He lets her be quiet, and somewhere along the line, even that became too much.
They don't talk much.
Too many of the words fell away in the midst of the war, in the midst of planning and tactics, in the midst of trying to hide out.
She remembers the warmth of his hand, his slight snore.
She can't think about the war, she can't, but sometimes it is all she can think about, all she can remember, and at night, Harry's body next to hers is too wiry, too lean, and she can't figure out what it all means because he is Harry Potter, he has always been what she's wanted.
And she comes here, and he looks at her, her name on his lips, and she can't even make sense of her own thoughts, her life.
He's halfway through telling her about the jobs he's applied for when -
"Do you ever think about it," she whispers, "the war?"
He closes his eyes and his fingers curl around the paneling of his desk and yes, she thinks, yes, he has always known how she's felt even if neither of them have been able to say it.
"Hard not to."
She looks away.
She has never fit, never - too many boys in her family (and not enough, a space to be filled) and her mum and she has spent too much time shouting and shouting for someone to tell her who she is. She paces while she talks and he just watches her, silent.
She once thought Harry Potter could save her, not just from the monsters, but save her and now - there are lapses in her self-awareness but now, right now, she wonders if she ever could be saved.
And he says, "The war's over, Ginny." And it is, it is, but his tiredness seeps into his voice and she can hear it, the dullness, she can hear everything, but none of it makes sense and all she wants is to ask him to be here again, to save the world again, to take her hand and fight alongside her. The war had its logic and ever since the end, The End, she has found herself trying to fill the space that can't be filled; the structures have disappeared and instead, she is left with the gaps between her fingers trying to catch the tumbling bits, the shards of the world as it was, and the largest one that falls into her palm is Harry Potter.
"It'll never be over."
He reaches for her hand, the hesitation plain on his face, and she's always been impulsive - act now, think later - but it seems so simple. She slips her hand into his, and the familiarity burns itself into her, like the nights they used to lie together by the fire, trying to empty their heads of the memories of too much blood and too much battle.
She settles into him then, and he lets her, and so much has happened that they've never spoken of - Hannah, Harry - but they've never quite needed words.
Her lips brush against his cheek and then, and then, she is kissing him and his lips are softer than she remembers; he deepens the kiss and she laughs against his lips.
There are no sides anymore, no broad thick lines of good and evil, and she doesn't care, she doesn't care - they have all been fighting battles they've never been able to win. He's fought alongside her so much and she's not sure if she's fighting on the right side in this one, but it doesn't matter. The war has ended, the world is saved - they're just trying to put themselves back together.
He pulls away and she rests her head against his shoulder, her breath hot on his neck.
The years go by and everything gets simpler and more complicated.
Well, she marries Harry, for one thing.
Maybe the war will end for her one day if she pretends hard enough that it already has.
When she visits him, he never lets her pretend.
He holds the pieces he has of her together, and it always dawns on her then just how badly she's fallen apart.
She never stops seeing him.
