Room of Requirement

Chapter 1: Nothing Left

Harry smacked his lips right into Ginny's without the slightest thought of if he would bruise either of their faces. She responded with a profusion of enthusiasm, pressing herself to his chest however awkwardly one could while kissing and sitting down. But neither of them cared. Nothing was self-conscious to them. Everything was just natural.

He'd never been so acutely certain of anything in his life. He was in no doubt that Ron and Hermione were his friends, he was sure Draco Malfoy would turn out to be an arrogant little git the day he met him, he had been convinced that Voldemort would hide one of his dreaded horcruxes somewhere in Hogwarts, and had always, even with some doubts, been secure subconsciously that he was meant for something. But within all of his certainties and inadequacies, he was absolutely certain that there was no other being in the world, both wizarding and muggle forms, that he would ever feel a capability of wanting the way he wanted Ginny now, the way he'd wanted her all these years. He was sure about this, this girl, this moment.

The war was over. The one his parents had died for; they had not, after all, died in vain for it was their son that had finished it, without conviction or complete knowledge or understanding the entire way.

After he'd visited the Headmaster's office, had everything explained to Hermione and Ron, who deserved it most, Harry had warily made his way to Gryffindor Tower and gone to bed in his cozy and familiar four poster bed, with its scarlet hangings closed tightly. Home, it was. It had been his bed for the greater part of six years. He'd wondered briefly who would occupy it next year but with an utmost lack of vengeful sleep, he was drafted into dreamless slumber.

But the moment he'd woken it wasn't of dead bodies and the destroyed Great Hall that initially entered his mind, nor was it the vision of Tom Riddle's obliterated piece of soul that had resided beside Harry's own completely whole soul his entire life. Instead he thought first of the image of Ginny he had conjured at Bill and Fleur's wedding, the last time he'd seen her before all this mess. The white dress, the hated derisory indolent stranger she strode towards. His stomach clenched with revulsion. At that time there had been a plethora of reasons as to why he would not allow himself to be attached to her.

But with the end of the war, all those reasons were, for the better part, vanquished.

With that thought pulsing through the veins in his temple like a hammer, Harry had stomped down to the Common Room, strode confidently toward the entrance to the girls dormitory, took just the first few steps up, and slid with a thud down to the ground.

"You know you can't go up there. Or is your head really that bugged from war? You'd figure after a full day and a half's sleep you'd be right in the head, but then again you were never really right in the head, given that you've had Voldemort inside it for the past near two decades," Ginny told him, sarcastic as ever, sitting with a book at the window seat across the room. In his determination to see her, he had quite obliviously walked right passed her. With the rising sun her hair, cascading in fiery waves down her back, shined and her skin glowed in the essence of the dim light.

"You shouldn't be saying anything," he told her standing up and facing her from across the floor. He was suddenly quite aware that he was still less than half dressed, just in his shorts, without a shirt. "I wasn't the one who told him all my secrets willingly, wrote them down in nice curly handwriting, all about the infamous Harry Potter, how much I adored him, dotting my i's with little hearts," he said, smiling.

"That is true in all but the little hearts, they're ghastly. But at least that same Harry Potter came to save me when I had Riddle's lovely and outstandingly charismatic piece of soul possessing me to restore his body. Isn't it interesting to think that at the same time Riddle had his soul imbedded in mine, he had another piece right inside of you."

That caught him off guard. "Who told you?"

"And it's interesting how you made an effort to unleash him from me but didn't have the knowledge that it was really you who had to be protected from him. Dumbledore told me." She lowered her eyes from his view, down to her lap. "I just… needed to know what… what happened."

With intended purpose, Harry seemed to rush at her. He pulled her face in his hands. And there they were kissing like they'd never before.

"You know, I'm actually willing to remove the enchantment over the girl's dormitory if you'd like. The Gryffindor Common room is a public place and the rules specifically say that public displays of affection are prohibited."

Ginny and Harry broke apart beaming, gasping for breath, and both a little red in the cheeks. Harry found it odd that Hermione of all people was making such a suggestion.

Ron looked aghast at her. "You've known how after all these years? I would've asked you out much sooner if I'd known that!"

Hermione smacked him in the arm and looked stern but they all laughed heartily, wonderfully.

They both had just stepped into the common room through the portrait of the newly enthusiastic Fat Lady. They both looked still a bit exhausted but clean and fed. And happy: they held hands.

"How did you sleep?" Hermione asked.

"Well," he replied. "Have I really been asleep for a day and a half?" he asked facing Ginny again. She nodded.

"But I'm sure you needed it. No one wanted to wake you, and Professor McGonagall threatened to curse the fingers off of anyone who tried. She stood guard in front of the dorm for a few hours, too."

"Yeah, Zacharias Smith, humble as ever, thought you should help restore Hogwarts after 'all that you put everyone else through.' He pretty much said it was your duty to help clean up and meet with the mourners and all," Ron said scornfully.

"And we knew you'd probably agree with him," Hermione said, as Harry stood to protest. "But you'd done plenty of that before you went to bed. And we'd agreed that you can do all the rest when properly prepared with sufficient sleep."

"Smith is still uncontrollably drooling," Ginny said in admiration of her own work. "So much so, that he can't speak. Rightfully so," she grinned.

Ron gave his sister an admiring smile. "Hogwarts is much more peaceful now."

"If you're hungry you should go get dinner. You too Ginny, the elves are insisting on staying awake until you both eat, especially you Harry. You're the only ones who haven't yet. You should go together," Hermione suggested.

"To talk," Ron added. "No one wants to see," he waved his hand randomly at them, "all that."

Ginny frowned but Harry laughed and again pressed his lips to Ginny's and Ron gave him a playful middle finger.

"But you should go soon, they've refused to sleep, all of them, in honor of you and Dobby. Kreacher is worst of them, won't even sit," Ron told him.

"You already have the girl Ron, you can stop kissing up to her now," Harry told him with a laugh. "Guess the book would work eventually." Harry reminisced of the book Ron had given him for his birthday.

"What book?"

"So dinner?" Harry went on hastily with a warning glance from Ron. "Not breakfast. What time is it?"

"About seven. That sun is setting, not rising, as I'm sure you might've assumed."

Hermione slumped down into a cushy seat and Ron sat on the floor in front of her feet. It was odd to see Hermione slumping, or slouching of any degree. They were still effortlessly and comfortably holding hands. Ginny laced her own fingers in between Harry's and gave them a little squeeze.

They were all silent for a moment. The dormitories upstairs were unoccupied.

Everyone was downstairs in the Great Hall eating or making arrangements for whatever needed to be done. Harry would have to go down soon. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. Not quite yet at least.

Below them, he was sure, the castle was being repaired and cleaned, and bodies had probably already been removed from sight, mourners going home to arrange for funerals, rejoicing for the end of the war. Harry subconsciously raised his hand to his forehead.

"Does it hurt?" Ron asked softly.

Harry shook his head. He smiled wide.

"What are we going to do now?" Hermione asked. "There's so much to do but now it feels like…almost as though…"

"There's nothing left to do at all," Harry finished.

"…yeah…" they all sighed.

Again they were silent.

A hundred worries coursed through him but with these three people around him he felt effortlessly calm.

All three of them walked down to the Great Hall with him. It almost proved to be too much for him and turning around and going back to bed seemed momentarily more profound a task than presenting himself to all of the people whose lives he had saved and likewise who had saved his life. He already knew it but fresh eyes made it all more gut-wrenching to see. The castle was torn to shreds. Where there were gaping holes in the walls, Harry could see out to the dark grounds surrounding them where spots of grass were charred black instead of green. Elsewhere along the corridors were burn marks and piles of rubbish.

But as dismal a walk as this was, it was as though Hogwarts was having him float magically down the stairs. Every lamp and scone glowed with a promise of a better future, of hope and happiness. In many places it was discernible to see where pieces of the stone walls had already been restored. Truly, half of the destruction had already been repaired. There was still much to get done but he knew in his heart it would be by far easier to accomplish than anything he'd attempted in the last year. The portraits called congratulations and thanks as they pushed into frames nearby to follow, Sir Cadogen cheering. Stragglers from dinner waved to him, greeted him, welcomed him.

"Hello Harry. Glad you're alright."

"Alright Harry?"

"Welcome back Harry."

The doors to the Great Hall were open and through Harry could see that this was where the restoration had begun. The room had been returned to its formal glory. The House Tables were still gone but replaced by many more round tables that sat about eight each. People were still eating and chatting but when one person noticed Harry's arrival, everyone's head turned to him. A communal smile and nod of the head welcomed him and that was all.

Harry went straight towards Mrs. Weasley and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh my dear," she said dotingly. He shook Mr. Weasley's hand. He could hardly talk but he hoped this would suffice as a hold for the huge debt he must repay them in love and hope and parenting.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, glanced at her daughter with a twinkle in her eye and smiled. "Come. You must be famished."

Harry sat in between eight Weasley's and Hermione for two hours while he and Ginny ate. They did not ask him questions. He listened as they conversed with one another, expressing both joy and grief and shifting gracefully past the latter.

At about midnight, Harry excused himself from the table and searched the corridors, finally finding Professor McGonagall in her office.

"Oh Harry," she said at the sight of him, coming around her desk to embrace him. It only felt peculiar for a moment, being hugged by his teacher, but the warmth the woman exuded quickly made the awkwardness dissipate. "You must have many questions."

"Er, just one for now…there's a room up on the seventh floor -"

"The Room of Requirement, yes," Minerva acknowledged.

"A fire broke loose inside during the fight and I was wondering if it was cleared up."

Minerva nodded. "Yes, the fire was remedied in a moment. It is safe go inside."

"Thanks Professor," Harry said and he made his way out of the door and upstairs.

Funny, Minerva thought. Harry wasn't the first to ask about the room.

Thank you so much for reading! Please review! Also, take a look at my main story Make it in Time.