A/N: For Sam, who tries so hard to like this pairing. I adore you, darling, and I hope I can help you get there. *Crosses fingers*

x.X.x

Harry realized that he had messed up fourteen days into the summer holidays when he stared down an empty floorboard under where letters should have been and realized that he hadn't written one that was long overdue.

Harry wrote about his aunt and uncle ignoring him thankfully, the way Dudley made fun of him for being excited to do his homework, the way Muggle sweets paled in comparison to Wizard sweets.

Are you okay? He wrote, lying on his bed in Dudley's second bedroom. He would never call it his.

Ginny wrote about fixing Arthur's Muggle car and ruining her clothes, her mother's resulting yelling, about visiting Bill in Egyptian sand. She wrote about flying and tricking the twins and freedom surrounded by nothing but apple trees and open skies. For weeks, no remains of Tom filled the space between her words.

Two weeks later, on a verge of a breakdown, Ginny wrote, "He's everywhere."

Ginny called him Tom. She knew his hatred of Pumpkin juice and his smug disdain at everyone but himself. When Harry wrote back, he didn't know anything but blood on the chamber floor, but it was more than anyone else could offer.

x.X.x

At eleven, Ginny had thought Harry was a hero. She had thought Tom was a hero too, another black-haired savior ready to face the world and remake it his glorified image.

She had been wrong twice. Tom had destroyed her under the cover of sheets that never warmed her, in ink stains that lingered, in her blood stained hands. She had trusted him and he lured her to her own death.

Harry had been a hero in the Chamber but she had seen him fall. Harry shivered beside Dementors, got scarred on his hands from Umbridge's fake titters and malicious mind, flung himself after his godfather and mourned for the dead.

Ginny didn't mourn for the dead. She didn't mourn for the living, either. She left flowers at Fred's grave, at Tonk's, at Luna's mothers. She held Harry's hand through the funerals and let him cry on her shoulder, his tears a hot anchor holding her to this world.

They held on. They got scars. Nothing about this was love or bravery except sometimes, all of it was.

x.X.x

They raced against each other, heaven on brooms as they dared the cold altitude air to drag them down.

The snitch was now in her line of vision and Ginny swerved. The wind was whiplash against her skin and she almost faltered at that, but she was too competitive to let a little wind get her down. Besides, Harry would be insufferable if he won again.

Harry's was further than she was but then again, he was the Seeker out of the two of them and before long, they were neck to neck.

"You're going down, Potter," Ginny shrieked and dived down. Harry did the same a beat later and Ginny could taste victory in the air, her fingers closing in until-

Until she was lying on the ground with Harry beside her, groaning. She could taste blood in her mouth and there was some on her hands and feet too.

"Damn it, Potter" Ginny grumbled, pushing herself up with a muffled shriek.

Harry looked sheepish. "Sorry, Gin," he said with a wince. Taking another look at him, Ginny saw that he was just as blood-stained as she was. Ginny offered him a hand and Harry took it with a pained moan.

As they headed back to treat their wounds, Ginny couldn't resist asking, "So, does that still count as my victory?"

Harry rolled his eyes at her competitiveness. "Well, considering you never caught it, I would like to say no."

Ginny rolled her eyes right back. "Cheater."

Harry raised his eyebrows mischievously and Ginny scowled enviously. She had wished she could that for years but never could, despite her efforts. "Why, Gin, are you accusing me of something?"

"Bite me, Potter," Ginny shot back with a laugh, throwing her arm over his shoulder.

Harry leaned down to Ginny's ear level, causing her to shiver slightly as he whispered, "I couldn't let you break my winning streak."

Ginny gasped, smacking his arm. "Just wait, Potter. I'm going to beat you."

Harry smiled lopsidedly and Ginny glared at the way that caused her heart to flop. She could never stay mad when he did that face. "I'll be looking forward to it."

It was official. She, Ginny Weasley, was a complete goner, all because of Harry Potter, who cheated in Quidditch and stole her heart.

x.X.x

James Sirius is the kind of boy who never comments on scars and calls everyone he knows a hero. He's the kind of boy who would save the world that never deserved him, who would sacrifice himself at a lake surrounded by Dementors, at a freezing Chamber, a tower with a long fall.

Albus Severus is the kind of boy knows all the stories, who screams back at people who don't honor everyone. He's the kind of boy who would snap back at bullies, at an older man with a heavy influence on the opposite side, at a ghost of a Dark Lord out for blood and vengeance.

Lily Luna is the kind of girl who knows all her godmother's dreamy stories and her uncle's joke shop tricks and who laughs so hard she cries at people who say they can determine other people's worth.

When you give, you get things back. Harry, Ginny, these are your legacies.